The Rules
by Number One Fan of Journey
Summary: The nations that bothered to come to this meeting leave the building afterwards to find themselves in a strange and unfamiliar place. Their only clue to escape is a note titled "The Rules". But The Rules involve them killing each other. And it even makes it sound like they won't always come back to life. The thing must be a joke... Right?
1. Prologue

Author's Note: Welcome to my newest story/possibly series, everyone! It's just one of those ideas that wouldn't leave me alone, and I thought some of you... well, I wouldn't say "horror", exactly.../blatantlies Hetalia fans might like it. So here it is.

Also, this story has a bit of an odd structure: this chapter is third-person past-tense. The other chapters, however, are going to be first-person present-tense. But they're not all going to be the same person. Check the top of the chapters for who's going to be narrating each chapter.

As always, I love reviews... hinthinthint... But I'll be happy as long as you enjoy. Which would only be evidenced by reviews... Hm, we have a bit of a quandary here, don't we~?

So, enough blathering. Enjoy~!

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><p>"…and as usual, I'll be the hero!"<p>

Germany sighed. "And how exactly does this relate to the economy again?"

"Really! Meeting on serious financial issues, and you make it a speech on fast food." England snorted. "I don't know why we would ever bother to allow you to speak."

"Because my ideas always work!"

"What about the time—"

"I said always!" Not taking any more objections, America turned back to his visual aid—a map of his 50 states that had nothing whatsoever to do with his presentation—and continued.

It was just another ridiculous world meeting. While most of the nations were supposed to attend, very few didn't feel the need to call in sick or make other excuses involving puffins, K-dramas, or back pain. Only the twenty slated to speak—as shown on Germany's carefully-typed-and-distributed agenda—ended up coming at all. Only one of those twenty had gotten to present so far, despite the meeting being an hour in. Of course, these things never started on time…

After a bit more bickering on America and England's part—instigated by the former, who decided eating hamburgers in the middle of his speech somehow helped drive his point home—America finally brought his presentation to a close. No one had questions, as they were all—apart from Italy, who decided it was time for a mid-morning siesta—quite sure nothing could possibly make his plan work.

Next on the agenda was France. By the time he finished his demonstration on how bringing sexy back would save the world, most of the nations had decided this meeting was an utter joke and stopped paying attention. Next up was England, then Russia—who did in fact manage to recapture the attention of the other nations with a well-placed "kolkolkol"—Switzerland and Liechtenstein, Japan, China, someone no one quite recognized, Germany, Poland, Spain, Italy—who had woken up by then mumbling about needing to eat some pasta—Romano, Austria, Belarus—whose speech soon descended into thinly-veiled hitting on her brother—Lithuania, Estonia, Latvia, and finally Hungary. Of course by then most everyone else had fallen asleep except Germany, who had just about given up on this and all future meetings altogether.

After discerning no questions were just dying to be asked, Germany officially adjourned the meeting. A few pseudo-sleepers popped up ready to go, while the few awake had to rouse the others. By the time everyone was awake but Japan—who started apologizing incessantly once he realized he had dozed off—the first few had gone out the hallway and to the front door.

Hoping to get out before Russia could awaken and catch up, Latvia was the first to the door. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder, just in case, and then finally swung the oak panel open.

"What…?" Latvia stared at the outside world before jumping and shutting the door back closed so no one could think it was his fault.

"Latvia?" Hungary started, walking up behind him. He squeaked and put his back against the door.

"Um, yes?"

"Was there something wrong with the door?" she asked.

"Er, no."

"Then why did you slam it shut?" She tried to sneak over to the other handle, but Latvia blocked her path.

"I never opened it!" he responded hysterically as other nations began gathering in the lobby.

"Oh, now, what's wrong, Latvia?" piped Russia, stepping forward toward the door.

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!"

"Forget this," Switzerland said, pushing his way out of the crowd and succeeding in shoving Latvia aside. "I'm going home." He gripped the handle and swung the door open.

He then proceeded to stare at the view.

"What's going on?" Germany said, unable to see out the door because of the crowd.

"All right, what trick did you pull?" America finally shouted, pointing accusatorially at Russia, as it was in his borders the meeting was held.

"I didn't do anything, I think," Russia replied, blinking at the outside.

The nations had come in that morning from the streets of a bustling city. Now the image that greeted them was that of a forest.

"Oh, quit blithering," England said, opening the other door so he wouldn't have to squeeze past any of the others. He took a step out and peered along the side of the building. "Hm." Walking a bit further, he thumepd one of the trees. "Well, it doesn't show any signs of an illusion..." He crossed his arms, pondering.

"Why are you acting like this is completely normal, aru?" interjected China, who was to some extent hiding from the mysterious trees by hiding behind Russia.

"So, it's, like, an actual forest?" Poland said, taking a step out but keeping one foot in. "Like, cool."

"Cool?" echoed France. "This isn't cool! This is weird!" He stared out into the trees. "Where _are_ we?"

"It certainly doesn't seem very Russia-like," commented Estonia, who hadn't stepped outside but could still feel the heat.

Russia agreed, much to the relief of his underling. "I would be able to tell if we were in my country." He glanced over his shoulder at the glob of nations in the foyer. "Does anyone else know where we might be?"

None of the other nations seemed to feel in the presence of his or her country.

"This is crazy," Lithuania said to himself. "There's no way the whole building could just... teleport!" He looked at the trees, sure they were an illusion but too afraid they weren't to go towards them.

"Maybe we've been abducted by aliens!" America blurted out. This caused several of his enemies to tell him how idiotic that idea was, and soon the whole foyer was full of nations mumbling amongst themselves.

Meanwhile, England had circled around the building, finding they were truly surrounded by forest. "Hm." Coming back to the front door, he almost ran into Germany, who was making sure this was real.

Germany walked back into the foyer, where various nations were still moaning or blaming each other for this.

"Everyone, quiet!" he finally barked. The voices faded to murmurs as the others turned towards him. "Whatever's going on, this isn't the way to figure it out. We will take turns, elaborating on our ideas of how to attack the situation."

"Great, another meeting," Romano grumbled. "Of course the potato-freak wants to make us go through that sort of thing again."

Tactfully ignoring this comment, Germany called on the only person who was waving his hand in the air to speak.

"I seriously think we've been abducted by aliens."

Germany closed his eyes and exhaled, narrowly keeping himself from face-palming. "And how do you suggest we solve the situation?"

"Uh... We find the aliens, and I'll beat them up until they decide to take us back!"

"Next idea, please?" Germany called.

Japan's hand was raised just barely above his head.

"Yes, Japan?"

"I can't say what has happened... It's hardly a nurikabe's doing... But whatever the case, I think it would be a good idea to explore the area, so we at least know what we are dealing with and perhaps where exactly we are." He bowed his head a bit to indicate he was done.

"All right. Next—"

"Let's just go ahead and move out of here," Spain said, apparently unaware someone else was still talking. "I think Japan's idea sounds good enough, and we should probably get going before it's dark. Romano agrees with me, don't you?" he sang, throwing an arm over Romano's shoulder.

"Get off of me, you stinking tomato bas—!"

"All right," Germany interrupted impatiently. "Let's head out."

Most of the nations finally found their way outside of the building. After Belarus, at Russia's indirect request, coerced Latvia into leaving the room and Hungary dragged Austria out, everyone congregated in a clump just outside the doors.

"Oi!" came a call a few meters away. "I think you'll want to check this out!"

Following the sound of England's voice, the crowd gradually drifted to the scene in question. It was just another stretch of forest, but on one tree was tacked a sheet of paper. It was a plain rectangle of white with words written in black:

_The Rules_

_1. For each of you, there is a certain nation on this island you must kill._

_2. If you kill your nation, you will go home._

_3. If you do not kill your nation, you will not go home._

_4. Enjoy your immortality while it lasts._

The nations stood in silence as they read and analyzed the words.

"This sounds fun!" Russia finally exclaimed, breaking the silence. Latvia immediately hid behind Estonia, who jerked at this and hid behind Belarus.

"Hang on," China started, backing up as Russia withdrew a length of pipe from his coat. "It's just a piece of paper, aru! There's no reason to do anything drastic, aru..."

"But it explains everything, da?" Russia responded, smiling as he twirled the pipe in his hands. "And I could use a little fun after that long meeting!"

"Yeah, bring it!" America responded, facing Russia and taking an exaggerated fisticuffs pose.

"What about the immortality part?" Liechtenstein said quietly.

"Don't worry about it," Switzerland replied, making sure he was ready to fire the gun slung over his shoulder. "It's all garbage."

"This island," Germany read aloud. "That gives us some hint as to where we are." He peered across the trees, musing over the first point and doing his best to ignore the fourth.

"Is it just me," Austria started slowly, "or has the building...?"

Some of the others turned towards where they had just left. There was absolutely nothing but more trees. No building in sight.

"Whoa, like, hang on," Poland said, running over to where the doors had just been, and wandering around. Nothing strange. Just trees.

"How does a whole building disappear like that?" Canada whispered.

"We're... stuck," finally concluded France, his breathing rate going up.

"We don't know that for sure," Germany responded, some of his composure starting to slip. "First we should at least make sure it actually is an island."

"Well, what does it matter?" Russia responded. "The paper already said it was an island. And I'd hate to put off any of this fun~!"

"We're exploring," Germany said firmly, marching off. Italy and Japan immediately started to follow him, while others joined the assembly a few moments later. The Baltic states hesitated, having no idea whether it was safer to stay with Russia or run off and risk making him mad. But once Poland came and dragged Lithuania after the others, the three went ahead with everyone.

The forest passed by them in eerie silence. It all seemed about the same: medium-height deciduous trees, an occasional bush, a few creeping vines. But soon the trees began to thin out, and, sure enough, a stretch of light blue water came to meet them. No other land masses were in sight.

"I don't like this," Latvia mumbled, looking down the shore, which swept on in a jagged arc.

America whooped, stripping off his jacket. "Now we know we can swim to safety!"

"We're nowhere near another landmass, at least not on this side," responded Switzerland.

"And besides," England added, crossing his arms, "you're a horrible swimmer. If anyone could make it a long distance, it would be me, not you. Although in your case, you at least have more than enough fat to float easily."

"Oh, bring it on!" America roared, kicking off his shoes.

"You two aren't serious, are you?" France reprimanded. "We're not close enough to swim anywhere! And besides..." He looked sideways uncomfortably. "If we can't even go back to the meeting building, do you really think we could escape that easily...?"

"Of course we don't," England sighed, leaning against one of the trees and staring out at the darkening waters. "We didn't come here through physical means, so it wouldn't make sense for us to leave like that..."

"Germany!" Italy suddenly wailed. "I left all of my pasta in the building!"

"Yeah, what _are _we going to eat?" America asked no one in particular.

"We can eat all we want once we kill each other and go home, da~?"

The Baltics inched a little further away from the one already brandishing his faucet pipe.

"We can't know that's not a trick!" Germany responded. "We'll just stick together, find some food, and—"

"And just stand around and think until we suddenly appear at home, aru?" interrupted China, gripping the wok he had brought in to serve food most of the others had ignored.

"We don't have any other real ideas," Germany countered. "But if we all just keep our heads—"

"Forget you!" hollered Romano. "I bet you're just trying to keep us from getting back, you sorry, potato-loving son of a—"

"We're not really going to kill each other, are we?" Estonia put out there shakily.

"It seems to be the only option!" Russia sang.

"This is crazy!" Switzerland yelled, pushing his sister towards the edge of the crowd so he could stand between her and everyone else. "Has everyone lost their minds?"

"Yeah! Like, there has to be some other way out!" interjected Poland.

"I agree," Germany responded. "We should at least explore the rest of the shore—"

"What, Germany?" Russia interrupted. "You don't want to follow the rules this time?"

"Just because a stupid piece of paper—!"

"Most rules to follow are on pieces of paper," Russia countered. "And, I, for one, believe..." he started to raise his pipe over his head— "...we should follow them!"

The nearest nation went down with a clang.

"He's lost it!" France yelled, pushing to the edge of the crowd, away from Russia.

"We're getting out of here," Switzerland told his sister, shortly before grabbing her arm and running.

Italy had already sped a good few meters away but was wailing for Germany and Japan. Germany, distressed and having lost all control over the crowd, gritted his teeth and took off after him.

The nations continued to split off into groups running madly away from Russia, who had just about finished pounding Hungary's head in.

And so the game began.


	2. We're Just Beginning

Author's Note: I'm updating this since I already had it written, but I wasn't planning to actually start this fic until I finished up _Miserable_. I'll probably keep typing on it, but don't expect fast updates until _Miserable_ is over.

Thanks for the reviews! They always make my day. :3

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><p><em>Germany<em>

We're a good fifty meters back into the forest by the time Italy finally starts to calm down. After almost running straight into a tree, he spins around and plops to the ground. I slow myself down, overshooting him a bit before I'm able to come to a stop. Japan, who started off last and never quite caught up, jogs the rest of the way toward us and sits down himself.

"Are we done running?" I start through my light panting.

Italy crosses his legs and looks up at me, blinking some of the frightened tears from his eyes before nodding.

"I'm too old to be running around like this," Japan gasps, finally able to take off his suit jacket.

It's just great to be thrust into this situation, in business clothes, no less. I've already taken off my tie and unbuttoned some of my undershirt, and Japan seems to have shed his briefcase as well. Italy, of course, wasn't in anything out of the ordinary to begin with, but he's taking off his jacket, too.

Of course, our outfits are hardly the worst of our problems right now.

"It's getting dark, so we won't be able to explore any more today," I begin, starting to pace. "We should at least find some food and a source of fresh water. While I wasn't able to keep an eye out during our run, I did catch a few animal tracks near the building, so both food and water must be here. We'll catch our breath, and then we'll be off."

Italy contemplates this, clacking his shoes' toes together. "Do you think there's any pasta here?"

"There won't be any pasta here," I sigh. "Just game, and maybe some fruit or nuts."

Italy whimpers, looking down sadly.

I sigh. "Don't worry; we'll be out of here before you know it."

I think. Obviously, something's going on. We're probably trapped, Russia at least is going to be trying to kill us, and that paper... It's the only thing that even gives a hint as to why we're here, but it can't be right. "Enjoy your immortality while it lasts"? We're nations. We're not going to lose our immortality without some war or revolution. And in a group of twenty of us, major nations, too. It's ridiculous.

Of course, it's ridiculous to show up on this island in the first place...

Let's not worry about this right now. There are more pressing issues at the moment.

"Let's move. Keep an eye out for any signs of game or any edible plants." I take a step forward as the others get back to their feet. "And... keep an eye out for Russia, too." I reach into an inner coat pocket to make sure my one-shot handgun is still there. Even if it takes more than just muscle, we'll be able to defend ourselves, from Russia or anyone else. I won't be able to use this on any game, unfortunately, but we'll make do. We don't have a choice.

We get to walking as the light continues to dim. My wristwatch says 4:00. I might need to adjust it, if time has somehow changed along with place. It's not impossible.

Well, it is, but so is most of what's going on right now. I don't know how this leap of sorts could even happen, let alone how it works. But all I need to know is how to get us out of here. I suppose I know exactly how, if that paper is true. But I refuse to believe it could be. There has to be a better way out. Maybe there's a nearby landmass, or maybe a plane could catch sight of us.

It won't be anyone I could call. My phone has no reception. I have a feeling the others' don't, either.

"Japan. You don't have reception on your cell phone, do you?" I start anyway. Japan checks his pockets but realizes he must have left the gadget in his briefcase.

"We can go back and look for it." Before turning around, I glance at Italy. "You don't have your phone, do you?"

"Nope! I left pretty much everything in the building." He beams.

"All right," I sigh, stopping. "Let's go back the other way and find Japan's briefcase." I start walking, even though I still feel like his phone isn't going to be any better off than mine. But we can find tracks and things in that direction as much as we can this way.

I keep a more careful eye out as we progress back to where our run started. I doubt Russia's still hanging around here, but who knows what he's doing. Or most of the others, for that matter. They're all crazy, so I wouldn't be surprised if some of them have decided to go on killing sprees, too. Whether that paper's the truth or not, this place is much more dangerous because of it.

We've carefully retraced about half of our heavily-indented, running footprints when Italy whimpers that he's thirsty. It's actually surprising how long he's held out. He's only mentioned pasta twice, too. He must be too exhausted to keep talking. I don't blame him this time. We're only walking now, but it definitely hasn't gotten any cooler. I'm just glad he hasn't decided to suddenly stop and take a nap. This is actually quite an achievement for him.

"Are we anywhere near water?" he mumbles, looking up at me hopefully.

"It doesn't look like it," I reply, squinting at the ground that just keeps getting darker. "But..." I hesitate a second before putting a hand in a lower inner coat pocket. "If you really need something..." I wait a second longer before finally making myself pull out a bottle of beer. It takes me another few moments before I'm able to sort of hold it out in an offering position. "If you... _really _need it..."

Italy smiles, relieved. "Grazie, Germany!" He tries to pluck it from me, but I realize I'm gripping it too hard for him to take it. I force myself to let go, and Italy starts scrabbling at the lid.

"Just... don't drink all of it, okay?" I push a few branches aside to check for Japan's briefcase before moving on. One of the branches flies back and hits my coat. There's a clink.

"Oh! Do you have more than one?" Italy asks, pausing from his attempt to open the bottle with his teeth.

"Er, no, no. It's just the handgun I keep on me."

"But, didn't it clink against something else?" Japan brings up, more thoughtful than accusatory.

"E-er..."

Before I can stop him, Italy flips up the side of my coat. The two remaining bottles in their specially-made pockets are exposed.

"There _are _more!" he announces.

"Germany," Japan starts as I defensively slap my coat back to my torso, "I know you prefer to drink your beer yourself, but, in this situation, you should let us know of anything that could help our survival."

"Ah... Yes." I bow my head a bit with a sigh. "I apologize. And, erm, in that case..." I hesitate, but eventually flip out the other side of my coat, showing the other three bottles. "I... also have these..."

Italy, who has almost managed to get the cap off himself, looks for a second before having a rare moment of insight. "So why did you bring six bottles of beer to the meeting?"

"I-it wasn't for the meeting! I just, ah... keep some on my person at all times... In case of situations like these!" I nod powerfully.

...Truthfully, just about all of those were for the meeting. But it was one of those times where one other person was always looking...

"Oh! I get it!" Italy responds cheerfully, finally getting the cap off. He tosses the bit of metal behind him, and I can only watch helplessly as he takes a swig.

He then spits it right back into the bottle.

"Yuck, it's warm."

I immediately grab his collar and jerk him back and forth by it. "_Of course it's warm; it's been in my coat in the heat!_" At this point, he's begun to wail for mercy. "_You just ruined an entire bottle of fine German lager, you little—!_"

"Germany!" Japan pulls us apart with some struggle. "Please refrain from hurting Italy like that! It is inappropriate for the current situation."

"R-right..." I clear my throat and look back at Italy. He's wailing and clutching the bottle like a child's safety blanket.

"I-I-I'm s-sorry, Germany!" he cries. "Pl-lease d-don't hate m-me!" He sniffles loudly, keeping his tearful puppy-dog eyes on me.

I heave a sigh, cradling my forehead in my hand. "I don't hate you, Italy."

He calms down a little bit. "W-we're still friends, right?"

"Yes, we're still friends."

"Okay." He sniffs again.

"Just... Please. Please. Never. Do that. Again." I exhale. "Ever."

We walk in silence for a second, during which I take off my coat. Since my secret's out, there's not much of a reason to keep this thing on.

"Speaking of things necessary for our survival," I start, "I don't believe you've mentioned that sword at your waist."

Japan pauses, laying a hand on the hilt. "Ah. Well... I'm not a backwards nation any more. I wouldn't carry around an actual sword. This is, ah, purely aesthetic..." He slides the handle out a bit to show the gleaming metal.

"If _that's_ aesthetic, I don't think I want to know how sharp the functional version is," I comment, checking a bush for the briefcase.

"Yes, well..." Japan puts the katana back, looking to the ground in embarrassment.

We go through a few more trees in our path before we're suddenly back at the shore. I immediately check the area for other nations, but it seems empty enough.

"I did not see any sign of my briefcase," Japan says, frowning. "Of course, my eyesight isn't what it once was, but..."

"I didn't see it, either," I reply, crossing my arms and looking out at the waves reflecting the sunset.

"Things simply seem to disappear in this place," Japan comments quietly.

Italy quivers. "We're not going to disappear, are we?"

"Not if we escape," Japan replies, drumming his fingers on his sword hilt.

"What do you mean, 'if'?" I respond, turning towards him. "We _are _going to get off the island."

Japan just meets my gaze silently before looking out at the water. Without facing us, he slowly draws out his katana.

I check the trees, in case he heard someone coming, but we're alone.

"Japan?" Italy starts. "What are you doing?"

Japan just looks at the half-sun's red reflection on the metal.

"I," he finally starts, eyes flitting up to look at us, "am going to kill both of you now."

Italy immediately squeaks and hides behind me, while I take a step back.

"H-hey, Japan, calm down. I don't know what's going through your head right now, but..."

He takes a step toward us, holding his sword ready to strike. "If one of you is the one I must kill to leave, I should kill you as soon as possible."

"Hang on, there's no reason to...!"

"Do you doubt you'll come back?" he asks.

I find myself taking another step back and starting to wish I hadn't set my coat and gun down just out of my reach. "No, but you can't fall for that piece of paper. Believe me, we can find another way out."

"But what if the paper is true?" He faces us unwaveringly. "If we really do begin to lose our immortality... I want to make sure I kill you while I know you're going to come back." He takes a step forward for momentum, bringing his sword around and hacking into my jugular.

I hold on to consciousness just long enough to see Italy go down, too.

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><p>I open my eyes to darkness. Am I... dead? No, I don't think so...<p>

A throbbing starts up in the side of my neck, and I vaguely start to remember what happened before I blacked out. Japan... Did he escape after all? No, of course he didn't. That would mean The Rules were true. They... probably are our best shot at getting out of here, but... There just has to be some other way. Some way that doesn't involve us all having to kill each other.

I shift, propping myself up on my elbows as my eyes start to adjust to the faint moonlight. Japan is seated seiza-style, facing the trees and scanning for enemies. Italy's lying on his side, but I can't tell whether he's started to breathe again or not.

"Ah! Germany!" Seeing me alive, Japan hurries over and helps pull me to a seated position.

"How's Italy?" I start, my voice still recuperating some.

"He hasn't come back just yet." He looks over his shoulder at the pale nation. I follow his gaze for a minute before turning back to face him.

"So. I guess neither of us is the one you're supposed to kill, then."

He gives a start and looks down at his hands. "No, you're not." He glances back at Italy before continuing. "I... I am very sorry for what I did to you both!" He bows deeply, bangs brushing the ground before he comes back up. "I wanted to make sure, but... It was inexcusable for me to do such a thing, especially without your permission!"

"It's... all right." I cross my legs, putting a hand over my neck, where a thin cut is still healing. "I know where you were coming from, and it looks like we're going to be okay." I look back over at Italy. I think he may have started breathing again.

Japan shakes his head. "It still wasn't right. I'm sorry." He nods at my dress shirt, which is now pretty well bloodstained. "I shouldn't have ruined your clothing, either." He looks over at two patches of red sand, and I realize he must have moved us away from where he killed us. "I at least washed the blood off your neck and face, but..." He trails off, still unable to look me in the eye. "I shouldn't have done any of that. I only wanted to make sure, but I just... shouldn't have..." He faces me, his eyes shining. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight, and... I'm... scared..." He turns away from me, thoroughly ashamed.

I try to think of what I could say to him, but before I can come up with anything, he's withdrawing his sword again.

"Japan?"

He looks over the blade, which has since been washed, before turning just enough to offer the handle to me.

"It's your turn," he says. I look at the blade silently. "We should make sure none of us have to kill each other as soon as possible, don't you think?"

"I... suppose." He continues to hold it out toward me, and I go ahead and take it. Without blinking, he turns to expose the side of his neck.

"Go ahead."

I hesitate, weighing the weapon in my hands. "You can at least take your shirt off, so we don't ruin it."

"No, that's hardly fair." He clasps his hands together. "I ruined yours and Italy's, so it only seems fair to kill me as is."

"No. I'm not going to punish you for being afraid. And, survival-wise, it's ridiculous to ruin any more of our possessions. Go ahead." I watch him insistently until he finally gives in and takes his shirt off.

"All right." I hesitate, rubbing the handle with my thumb. I look back over at Italy, who's starting to stir. "Ah! Italy's waking up. Maybe we should wait—"

"Germany." Japan shifts to look back at me for a moment. "Rule number four." _Enjoy your immortality while it lasts. _"We don't have time to spare."

I exhale, knowing he's right, as he turns back. It won't hurt that much, and I'm sure he'll come back just as quickly as I did. It takes me a few more moments of hesitation, but I finally tell him the strike is coming, ready the sword, and plunge it into his neck. He scoots away from me a bit, to keep some of the blood from hitting me, before he falls to his side twitching and bleeds out.

I set the katana down shakily as the blood flow gradually slows to a dribble.

"G-Germany?"

I jump to see Italy wobbily sitting up, staring at me wide-eyed.

"He told me to," I start quickly, taking a step back from the scene of the crime. "It's... I can't explain it all at once, but..." I trail off, squinting. Why is everything getting blurry? My eyesight has already recovered from dying.

It starts to get brighter, much faster than daybreak could manage. The image of Japan, Italy, and the shore continues to blur out before my vision finally starts to sharpen again. But the two before me don't become any clearer. I rub at my eyes, looking around again before I start to realize what has happened.

The image before me is now my own room, the bedside lamp shining, the bedsheets impeccably straight on the mattress. Bewildered, I stagger to my feet and take a few steps, the carpet spongy under my feet. I reach out and put a hand on the table. It's solid, as wooden as I left it.

It takes a second for it to finally start to sink in. I'm... back home.

Japan was the one I had to kill.

The Rules are real.


	3. And We'll Fight

Author's Note: Ah, so many reviews! Thanks, everyone~~!

Well, I was originally going to do about 2,000 words per chapter, but considering the last one ended up being 3,243, I may shoot for 2,500... Oh, boy. I'm too lazy for this. XD Let's see how this goes.

Oh, and this story officially has a TV Tropes page, if anyone would like to contribute. :3

I apologize in advance for France being France.

Oh, and please let me know if you think anyone's acting out-of-character. I haven't had the chance to watch the show in a while.

Now I'll shut up already and let you read (and review?).

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><p><em>America<em>

By the time my watch says 3:50, we've settled at a nice inlet on the shore. It should be easy enough to watch out for Russia here, and if any ship passes by, we'll be able to see it.

We'd probably be able to hear it, too, if anyone would shut up long enough to not make me argue with them.

"...and there are more of us here than just you, so if you could even possibly refrain from eating everything you brought in at once, it would be better for all of us," England nags.

I take a second to swallow my mouthful of Spom, which is one of about, uh, ten tins of it I had under my shirt. "Of course I'll heroically sacrifice my own meals for you guys' sake. Just lemme finish this one. And maybe a couple of Snackers, too. And then, you know I'll have to keep my strength up for this dire situation, so I should probably have a few more tins of this stuff..."

In response, China swoops in and escorts my food away from the sand in front of me.

"Hey!" I protest.

"Quit hoarding everything to yourself, aru! We don't know how long we're going to be stranded here, and if one of us has to start starving, it's going to be you, not me, aru."

"Ah, but you can't hoard all of the food to _your_self either, China!" France says, coming in close to the one with all of my food in his arms. England pulls the two apart before China gets a chance to smack France over the head and says, "No one's going to be hoarding any food!" He makes China drop the food and starts to organize it. "I'll just watch all of it myself."

"And how do we know _you're _not going to sneak around and hoard the food to yourself?" France asks, feeling speaking is enough of an excuse to cozy up to England. England responds by punching him in the face. The two immediately start hitting each other around.

"Unlike some of you," England shouts amidst the fighting, "I'm at least not known for shoving my face every opportunity I get!"

"Pfft, yeah," I snort, finishing off my can of Spom. "Because if you shoved your face with _your _cooking, you'd be long dead by now."

England yanks me into the fray, and within a few seconds we're all bashing on each other indiscriminately.

"Oh, break it up, aru!" China manages to rip France away from us and goes on to pull England back from me, though we're still swatting at each other. "Forget saving our food—if you keep beating each other up, you're going to run out of energy, anyway, aru!"

England finally starts to calm down, while France is probably just relieved he got out of it before I really punched his lights in. Although I'm not sure why I was fighting him, anyway. Eh. He's France. I don't really need a reason other than that.

"Well, if we don't want to be fighting, it's probably not the best idea for us to all be in one group, with or without Russia," I say, crossing my arms. "We should just break up and go it on our own. So you can give me my food back now."

"What was that about heroically sacrificing your meals for us?" England grumbles.

"Hang on, everyone. I think we should all stay together."

China pauses, looking around. "Who said that, aru?"

"Um, me, eh?" Canada replies weakly from where he stood next to England. England finally turns to see him and jumps. "H-how long have you been there?"

"I've been here all along... I was running right alongside you, too..." He stifles a sigh.

"Oh, er, I-I knew that," England replies, clearing his throat.

"Yeah..." Canada looks down, rubbing his arm. "Well, as I was saying... It's going to be hard for some of us to defend ourselves from an armed Russia. We've been able to work together before without killing each other, so it's in our best interest to stay as a group, don't you think?"

"I'll protect you, little bro!" I declare, throwing an arm over his shoulders. "No stupid Communist is going to pick on you!"

"You do know he's not Communist anymore?" France sighs.

"I don't care; he's not getting to my brother, anyway! Because a real hero—"

"Oh, we get it," England interrupts. He shakes his head and sighs. "How many times are you going to change your stance on the matter, anyway?" I take a step away from Canada and sit down. "I think I'm good now."

"Great." England rubs his forehead before looking back at my food. "How long were we looking away from the building before it disappeared?" he asks suddenly.

"Nn, I don't know." I glance back over my shoulder as if I expect the building to reappear. "Why do you care?"

"For starters, I set my coat down over there a minute ago." He points to an empty spot on the sand.

"Uh... Congratulations?" I respond. England narrows his eyes, obviously wishing he could hit me if only it wasn't so inevitable that he would lose.

"So, things just disappear around here, aru?" China starts. England nods, crossing his arms. "Unattended things, at least," he answers. "I'm sure it would do us some good to determine how long it takes for something to disappear, but it's more important to make sure we keep an eye on the food."

"But thing's won't disappear if they're on our person, correct?" France brings up. "Because I haven't been keeping an eye on my underwear, but I'm quite sure they're still there." He slides up to the closest nation, who happens to be England. "Or would you like to check?" England looks at him for a second.

"Screw energy conservation." He punches France in the face and kicks him where it hurts. Once he's somewhat recovered, France jumps back, and the two pick up where they left off.

"He does sort of have a point, though," Canada concedes. "And we should put together all of the laws about this place we can, right?"

"Yeah, aru." China watches as England and France somehow simultaneously elbow each other in the face before he continues. "So, everything... Well, everything that we brought in disappears if we don't watch it or if we... aren't touching it, I guess."

"That sounds about right," Canada replies, moving his eyes upward as he thinks of what else we might know.

"And then The Rules," I put in. "Those're kind of important, right?" I'm scooping out the last piece of Spom when England knocks back France, who proceeds to stumble into me and knock the tin out of my hand. "Hey!" Ignoring me, he gets pack to his feet in time to dodge England's kick.

I hurry over to the tin, but sand has spilled into it, rendering the meat remaining about as edible as England's last attempt at pancakes. Flinging it back to the ground with a frustrated grunt, I get back to my feet and pinpoint the new location of the fight. France is just finishing socking England in the gut, and England retaliates by punching him repeatedly in the back of the head.

"Okay, that's enough, Brit-face!" I grab England and throw him to the ground. France backs away immediately. "It's one thing to beat the crap out of each other, which is actually pretty fun to watch, but don't knock over my food!" I thunk my head back against a tree trunk. "I'm still hungry, too..."

"You're always hungry," England grumbles, getting to his feet and sweeping sand off his trousers.

"Yeah, so?"

"Anyway," China interrupts testily, "while you two were squabbling, we managed to piece together a few things, aru."

"Right, I heard you," England replies, straightening out his mangled dress shirt. "We also know that this island was created remotely, likely through the use of magic, with its only purpose being the events that unfold with us here." France nods. "And we also know England is insane." England just manages to restrain himself from starting another fight.

"And, um," Canada starts, "how exactly do we know that, England?"

"Well, anyone with half a sense of vitaloception could tell we're the only ones who have ever been on this island, apart from the wildlife, of course. The rest is guessing, but it's the only way that could make sense."

"Oh, boy," I snort. "England's Spidey Senses are tingling."

"They are not 'Spidey Senses'," he deadpans.

"Fine." I continue as mockingly as possible, "England's _sixth _senses are tingling."

"Oh, please. Vitaloception is the fourteenth sense."

"The crap?" I respond, looking at him like he's talking to his imaginary friends again.

"Oh, ignore him," France says, waving his hand in dismissal. "He's just trying to get attention."

"If you ignore me, you're ignoring half of the clues you're going to get on this place." England shakes his head, flicking the last few grains of sand off his slacks and muttering something about just _having _to wear his brand-new suit to this chaos.

"They're not really clues if they're completely made-up, though," I bring up. England scoffs, "You're the one who said we were abducted by aliens."

"Hey, that's a totally viable way for us to be here, okay?"

"If you're so sure it's aliens, why are we by the shore to look for ships, aru?" I scoff indignantly. "What, you don't think spaceships can come on water, too?" England rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on," I respond. "_You _think they're going to show up in a fricking blue phone booth."

"Hey, who's watching the food, aru?" China looks over his shoulder in a sudden panic. "It'd better not be gone!"

I jump over there to check. The pile is not where we left it. And it sure doesn't look like any of us snuck it to ourselves.

"It hasn't disappeared, has it?" France asks, not quite able to see over us.

"No, no, I have it." Canada suddenly reappears, sitting with my stash precariously balanced in his arms. As we start to give a sigh of relief, he looks down at it. "I had suggested we split it up and put it in our pockets, but no one heard me, so I just picked it up for now..." He sighs quietly.

"Oh, I heard you!" I assure him, trying to cheer him up. "I was just... thinking too hard, that's all."

"If you're going to lie, you should at least make it convincing," England calls. "You know, something you're actually capable of."

"Anyway!" China starts, stepping between us before I get a chance to smack England one. "Splitting up food. I say we just hand it out evenly, aru. Since we'll be staying together, we can worry about our proper shares when we get around to actually eating. Might as well keep our loads manageable, right, aru?"

"Yeah, but we don't all have pockets," I bring up. "While we _know_ everything can fit under my shirt..." I raise my eyebrows in suggestion. England of course has to be the first to reject the idea, just because it's mine. "And if we get separated, you'll be the only one with food. No."

"Well, let's not get separated, then," I reply with a shrug.

"Will you quit acting like this is a game?" England responds, half-bitter and half-tired. "Something dire is happening on this island, and we need to treat it as such."

"And this is coming from the first one of us who started a fight here, aru." China rolls his eyes. England just re-crosses his arms, not wanting to show embarrassment. "Really, though," England continues, clearing his throat and turning serious, "it's getting dark, nations are hunting us, nations are dying, we don't have fresh water, and... we don't know much, either. I, of course, am going to be the most important of us on the island since you all are blind to magic, but it's going to take all of us to figure this out."

Our inlet suddenly seems darker. I hadn't noticed the sun on its way down, but, more than that, we've all fallen silent. As much as we like arguing and beating on each other, if The Rules are real... Man, I don't even know if the four—er, five—of us are enough. What are we going to do, anyway? Just sit around, pretend England's being serious about the whole magic thing? Or are we going to trust The Rules and go out killing everybody? That sure doesn't sound very heroic.

Naw, there has to be some other way out of here. Screw The Rules. I'll see everybody off this island or die trying.

Except maybe Russia. He's been a pretty big jerk about this so far.

France finally breaks the silence. "All right. So, we should plan things out a bit, don't you think? It's getting late, so finding water's probably out for today."

"I agree, aru. We should probably just talk things out for now, and then we'll set up watches to make sure Russia doesn't get to us while we're sleeping."

"May we also divide up the food?" Canada puts in timidly.

"Yes, yes, let's do that now," England says, walking over to where Canada is still sitting. He counts out eleven tins and starts passing them out. I'm handed the extra without protest from anyone, and we move on to the Snackers. Everything goes smoothly, no objections, no arguments, no fights.

And when _we're _getting along like this, it can only mean we're all in real trouble.


	4. In the Dark

Author's Note: AEULSB;HNAEIOJDV I'M GETTING, LIKE, THIRTEEN REVIEWS PER CHAPTER WITH THIS THING

*clears throat* Er, much appreciated. Please keep it up, heehee.

And in case you were wondering, the past two chapters were going on at the same time. Unlike some of my other fics, the point-of-view switches can overlap. If you get too confused as to whether or not some things are happening at the same time, ask (in a review, nerf) and I'll make it clearer. ^^ This chapter is the same evening as the other two.

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><p><em>Estonia<em>

By the time the sun sets, Latvia and I are settled around a tiny, crackling fire. We found a ditch with water, but it wasn't exactly clean, so we've been trying to boil it. The fire's just too small, though, and now that the forest has gone dark I'm starting to worry the firelight is going to give our position away.

"I think this is as clean as we're going to get it," I start. My voice sounds a lot louder than I'd like, so I look around just in case someone heard me. As far as I can see—which isn't that far in the dark, even though the trees are widely spaced—we're still in the clear. It's hard to feel the least bit safe here, especially when Russia could be around any corner, but I think we're all right for now.

I carefully remove the bowl-shaped rock from the fire and set it down a few centimeters away, before I can burn my fingers. Latvia only takes a second to realize we're done with the fire and gets to putting it out immediately. It's nice of him to take a hint for once, although he tends to know what he's doing as long as he's not talking. Most of the time. If it's something that can get the three of us in trouble, he'll probably do it...

It's just the two of us now. I'm not sure where Lithuania went. I hope he's all right; that's about all I can say. We don't chat much anymore, and chatting isn't the best way to stay hidden, anyway. We're going to have to be silent and invisible if we don't want to get caught. And while Latvia tends to be quite the expert in giving his position away—all of the quivering he does isn't so silent when we're hiding in things that rattle or rustle—I'll be sticking with him. It's bad enough out here already, and it would be so much worse if we were alone. Honestly, we're probably not going to do that much protecting each other, but at least we can feel like our backs are being watched. I'm paranoid enough; I don't need to be out in the dark all alone. And that goes double for Latvia.

By the time the last few embers have been stifled by Latvia's dress shoes, the bowl still hasn't cooled down enough for me to hold it for an appreciable amount of time.

"Where are we going to sleep?" Latvia starts. I can just tell that he's looking over his shoulder fearfully.

"You think you'll be able to sleep?" It is pretty darn scary out here. Even if it is safer, I'm starting to wish we hadn't extinguished the fire. It's even worse on our nerves when we can't see anything.

"I don't know..." He looks at the ground, downcast.

"Well, we could stay..." I start before pausing. Every suitable shelter in this place that we don't have to put together ourselves is made of leaves that rustle and wood that clacks. Unless he really does fall asleep, we'll only be more likely to get caught if he holes up in any of those.

"...here, if you want," I finally finish. "The ground's not all that comfortable, but there's more cushioning here than on the branches and bushes."

"Yeah?" Enough of the half-moon's light hits his face for me to see him looking up at the swaying branches. As a stronger wind makes the sound of leaves louder than the cicadas, I can tell he's stumbled upon the same trail of thought I just had.

"You know," he starts in a mumble, "you don't really have to stay with me." He swallows, not looking at me for a few moments before he starts to realize the implications of what he just said. "B-but please do," he tacks on, looking back at me pleadingly. It's easier to see his eyes when they're starting to tear up.

"I'm not going to leave you," I sigh, tapping the bowl to see if it's cooled down. I could move it elsewhere now, but by now I'm sure we're just staying out in the open tonight. "It's better for both of us if we stick together. A lot of it is just psychological, but I think that's fairly important when any one part of this place will turn you into a complete paranoid." I sigh, pushing my glasses up on my nose.

"Okay," Latvia says, pulling his knees to his chest. He blinks at me. "But thank you anyway."

"Don't mention it." I fight the urge to clear my throat. We've been making enough noise.

I pick up the bowl and scoot to Latvia's side so whispers will be sufficient. "The water's cooled down. You want the first sip?" He nods, rubbing his fingers all around the bottom of the bowl before he can get a grip on it. I carefully let go, and he brings the stone to his mouth and takes a tentative sip. From the sound he makes, I can tell he's barely able to keep himself from spitting it back out. He swallows with a groan. "It tastes horrible." He freezes. "Are you... A-are you sure it's okay t-to drink?"

Not really. We don't have any sort of filter other than cloth, and we didn't quite heat it long enough to get all of the germs and things out.

"I'm sure," I sigh. It won't do him any good to have something else to worry about. We have to stay hydrated for sure, and I know we've gotten the worst of the junk out of there. We might still get sick, but we run that risk no matter how much we clean things. If we play it absolutely safe, we'll be dead in a week.

And apparently we might not come back afterwards. Enjoy our immortality while it lasts, huh? I certainly don't like the sound of that. While I guess I've never expected to live forever—tons of nations are gone for good—this has to be different somehow. Otherwise, we wouldn't be warned, right? I can only assume our lifespans are supposed to be significantly shortened. Likely in a way that would affect our activity here on the island. According to the first three rules, some of us won't go home; after all, if the ones we have to kill go home before us, we can't very well kill them. So whoever doesn't go home should have his or her immortality run dry somehow.

But, is that it? The Rules seem fairly plain and prone to loopholes. If I kill whom I have to kill, I'll go home. Will I be alive if I get there? Will I be back to a normal nation? And in that case, will I be a normal nation until, say, I'm killed after my immortality runs out? Or is the loss of immortality more gradual? Am I slowly turning into a human?

And if that's the case, wouldn't more than just immortality be at stake? Nations are certainly more than humans who don't stay dead. What else separates us, besides the people of our countries behind us? I've never heard of a nation getting cancer, so it's obvious we have huge differences. But what have we not noticed?

I suppose we're more immune to vision loss. I've probably done enough tech-tinkering in the dark to wreck my eyes beyond repair, but I only miss out on some degree of distance vision without my glasses. If that's a benefit, then am I going to go blind? Through our long lifetimes, I'm sure we've all had enough exposure to sunlight to destroy the human eye. Would we all lose our vision with our immortality, then?

And what else is there? Sanity, maybe? While it's... a stretch to call some of us sane, we've all gone through more than enough to render a human unable to function. Will we lose our minds, too?

I really don't want to stick around and find out! Someone get me away from this place...!

"Estonia? Wh-what's wrong?"

I jump at the voice, nearly knocking the bowl out of Latvia's hands. "Ah! Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I just..." I take a deep breath and grin at him weakly. "I'm just thinking too much. You know me."

"Okay..." He lowers his shoulders a little, though he hasn't stopped shaking. "Um, did you want some of this to drink, then?"

"Ah, yeah, I'm parched." I take it from him and down some. It's as nasty as I expected, but it's still nice to have something to drink, regardless of taste. Hopefully we can get a few more bowlfuls of this tomorrow. If we make it to tomorrow...

No, I'm just not going to think about this stuff anymore. For all I know, The Rules is just some prank, and we'll all be off the island once we can flag a plane down or something. I'm... almost completely sure that's not the case, but it won't do me any good to think that. I just need to focus on what I know. I know we're in some degree of wilderness with no food or water on us. I know Russia's going to be hunting down everyone. And I know I have to try my hardest not to freak out. It won't do me any good, and Latvia'll probably have a heart attack if I lose it.

Over the course of the next few minutes, we finish off our meager supply of water, and I wipe the bowl clean and stash it in my briefcase. The thing might be inconvenient to drag around, but any container's a good one, it has pencil and paper, and I could attempt to hit Russia over the head with it if he attacks us. I'd probably be too frozen in fear to do so, but there's still a chance.

I sigh, shuffling back to lean against a tree that isn't very comfortable. Latvia stays where he is, looking around constantly just in case. Though I know I'm way too tense to fall asleep, I make myself close my eyes for a second and relax. If it were just the cicadas making all of the noise, it would be quite peaceful like this. But critters I can't identify are gibbering who knows how far away, and the on-and-off rustling of the trees makes me paranoid that someone's approaching us.

"E-E-E-Estonia—!"

My eyelids fly open, but it's too late. We're bludgeoned before we can run, and dead before we can fight back.

* * *

><p>I wake up groaning. My head's pounding, and my hair's matted with blood, but when I dare to touch my scalp, nothing's jutting out or still bleeding. I'm far from healthy, but I'm healed up, more or less.<p>

I open my eyes to early evening sunlight. Have we been out almost a whole day? Or more? I don't think I'm quite hungry enough to have been lying here two days, but it's hard to tell. I've sort of gotten used to eating regularly over the more recent years. Famished is just famished now. No way to tell.

With some difficulty, I get myself into a seated position and look around. Blood stains the ground we had intended to sleep on. Latvia's still sprawled out face-down, though it looks like all of his injuries have healed up. He should be awake in a minute.

I stretch, noticing that my briefcase is still where I left it. Lot of good it did in that battle, huh? I don't think that could have been called a battle, though. More like a swift smackdown.

It had to have been Russia. He's hunting everyone down for amusement, and I'm not sure how many others brought in a blunt metal object. It was too dark for me to actually see him, but I know it was him. He especially likes picking on us, after all. I wonder if he already found Lithuania.

On that note, it's a bit odd he took us out so quickly. He's usually more inclined to torture. Hmph. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe Latvia and I are weaker...

Maybe, maybe, maybe. Haven't I already told myself I'm not going to say that? There are more important things to do. Like getting more water. And some food would be really nice, too, but that's not likely. I doubt I'll be whacking around any game with the briefcase. So, water it is.

I take a look at Latvia, and he's starting to stir. I guess I'll just wait on him. I wouldn't want to leave him all alone, even if I can leave a note. He'd probably panic too much to read it.

Watching him wake, I go ahead and stand, gripping my case. It's heavier with the bowl in it, though it isn't that light, anyway. It would be great if we could just scoop up water in here and boil parts of it in the bowl, but alas, the thing is far from waterproof. I'd hate to ruin what few things we have. It's a good thing my glasses are okay. They must have gotten knocked off in the first hit, to survive that assault. My dress jacket didn't get off so unscathed—the blood's starting to really smell, unfortunately—but I can try to wash it. At the shore, rather than our mucky ravine. I definitely wouldn't mind washing my hair, either. We'll have to make an excursion over there. Tomorrow, I guess, since we don't have much longer for today.

Latvia finally starts to push himself up, and I help him to his feet. I let him reorient himself before nodding in the direction of the ditch.

"You ready to go get some more water?" I ask. He waits for a second before starting to nod his head. The apparent headache makes him stop that and mumble a yes. "All right. Let's get going, before it's dark." I lead us off, though the trek, once again near sunset, gives me such a strong feeling of deja vu I start praying the same thing won't happen again.


	5. Hysteria

Author's Note: Maaaaaaaan, this is getting a lot of reviews. I love you guys :D Just keep it up! You inspire me, and that might mean I churn out chapters faster. ;)

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><p><em>Italy<em>

By breakfast-time, I'm still darting back and forth between the shore and the trees, and I don't have any idea what I'm supposed to be doing. Should I hide, or should I wait on Japan, or is he even coming back, or should I wait on Germany, or is he coming back? Where is everyone? I don't know what's going on, and I don't like it, and Japan killed me, and Germany killed Japan, and Germany's gone, and Japan hasn't woken up yet, and what am I supposed to do?

It's hard to think because I'm still running around, and it's hard to breathe because I'm crying and hiccupping really loud, and I guess I'm a little bit drunk because I was thirsty, and I drank some more of Germany's beer, and he's going to yell at me when he comes back, or is he coming back?

What am I supposed to do, what am I supposed to do? Everybody's trying to kill me, and Germany's gone, and Japan hasn't woken up yet, and I don't know if I want him to because he killed me, and I wonder if I made him mad...

After darting and stumbling between the trees and the shore a few more times, I see Japan starting to wake up. I immediately shriek and hide behind a tree. Or is it worse to be on this side? Because everybody's trying to kill me, and Germany's not here to protect me, and Japan's waking up, but I don't know if he's just going to kill me again, but I want to make sure he's okay, but-but...

I hop back and forth from foot to foot before finally deciding to watch from behind one of the slightly thicker trees.

Japan opens his eyes and sits up, looking around to try and orient himself. He still looks confused, so maybe he isn't mad at me—

"Ah!" he exclaims. In response, I squeak and get back behind the tree. It takes me a second of hiding before I suddenly realize he wasn't looking at me. After a bit of hesitation, I go ahead and peek out at him again.

Apparently the first thing he realized was that he's not wearing his shirt, because he's scrambling for it first and foremost. He hurries to button it up before pausing and wondering why he's surrounded by so much blood. He takes a minute to think before picking up his sword and walking to the shore to clean it. Scanning what's around him as he dries it back off, he almost looks right at me. I zip back behind the tree shaking and hiccuping harder.

"Italy?" he starts, standing back up. I wail, hiding for a second longer before finally realizing he knows where I am. Popping out from behind the tree, I whip out my white flag and start waving. "I-I'm—hic—sorry! I'll do—hic—anything, just don't—hic—h-hurt me!"

"I won't hurt you," he responds, knitting his eyebrows together for a second before remembering what he did yesterday. "There's no reason to hurt you anymore." As I hesitantly lower my flag, he continues toward me, putting his sword back in its sheath. "I apologize for killing you and Germany, but at least we know I can't be forced to kill either of you later. And..." He takes another look around. "Where _is_ Germany?"

"I-I don't—hic—know," I get out. "He—hic—just... While I was—hic—watching, he—hic—hic—" I try to catch my breath and talk again, but all that comes out is more hiccups.

"Italy, please calm down. If you tell me what happened, we can come closer to knowing what's going on." I nod and swallow. "I-I—hic—was—hic—watch—hic—ing, and—hic—hic—hic—" Japan waits on me a moment, but I can't stop my hiccuping no matter how hard I try.

"I suppose," he starts quietly, "I should go ahead and kill you, anyway." He slides his sword out a little.

"No, no, no, I'm sorry! Pl-lease don't hurt me! I'll do anything! Anything!"

"Then stop hiccuping."

"I already tr-tried! I c... can't..." Suddenly I realize I actually have stopped. "Huh..."

Japan re-covers his sword and apologizes for scaring me. "Now, please just take a few deep breaths and calm yourself down. Then you can tell me what happened." I nod and do as he says.

It's okay. Japan's awake, and he's not going to hurt me, and I still don't know what happened to Germany, but Japan'll figure it out, and then we can all be together again, and nobody has to get hurt, and I won't have to worry about anybody else killing me... It'll all be okay...

I swallow and look back up at him.

"Are you ready to talk?" he asks.

"Uh-huh."

"All right." He invites me to sit down, and we both sit across from each other. "Firstly, what time were you fully awake?"

"Um, I didn't check the time, but... You were lying down, and Germany hajuspursurtuneck..."

"Er, Germany what?"

"He..." Oh, I knew I shouldn't have drunk that much!

I try and focus on my tongue so I stop slurring. "He had just put your sur—sword to your neck."

"All right." Japan nods. "What happened after that? Besides me dying, of course."

"Well, I started freaking out, and then he said... He said..." I frown, trying to concentrate. "He said you told him to do it, and then he... he said he couldn't explain it all at once, and then hestardispuran—"

"Italy." I cringe, having to take a second to remember what I was trying to say before I can go on. "A-and then he started to disappear, and then I really started freaking out, and you were still d-dead, and Germany never came back, so I was kind of running around, and then I decided I was thirsty, so I drank more of Germany's beer evethoInuedbemadtme, and I felt a little better but I was still really scared, so I had acoplmorbut I was still freaking out, and it got kinda cold so I put on Germany's jacket, and I sort of ended up runroundtilyu woke up, and then I guess you know what happened after that."

He listens, eyes expressionless, until a few moments after I'm done. "All right," he finally says slowly.

"Do you know what's going on? Where's Germany? Is he okay?"

"I'm not completely sure," he starts, pausing again. "And you say he disappeared? How so?"

"He, uh... He just kind of faded away. It was s-scary." I feel more tears welling up even though I never really stopped crying.

"And when exactly did he start to fade?"

"Ve..." I think about it hard even though my mind feels groggy. "A little while after he c-cut your neck..."

Japan thinks on this for a moment, not moving. Then a gleam comes into his eyes that's the closest I ever see him get to smiling.

"What?" I start, feeling my heart rate pick up.

"Don't worry about Germany," he says. "He's home."

"Really?" I feel a tingle of relief go down me. Japan nods. "And you'll be back at home, too, once you kill your nation."

I freeze up a little bit. "K-kill?"

"Yes," Japan sighs. He puts a hand on his sword handle, but lets go after a short pause. "Germany was the one who had to kill me, so I'm afraid you're not fortunate enough to just do away with me and get out. Whoever it is you need to kill, we'll have to go out and find."

"Wai-wai-wai-wai-wait," I exclaim. "I can't kill anybody! Why-why are we trying to kill people? Why... Why..." I can't quite figure out what words I'm trying to use.

"I know it seems wrong, but we know now that The Rules will provide us with a way out of here if we only follow them. We have a responsibility to our fellow nations to let them know, and if we all kill each other as quickly as possible—"

"I don't wanna kill anybody!" I wail. Japan closes his eyes and exhales. "You have to, Italy. It's the only way we know you can go back home. You want to go home, don't you? If you stay here, you won't have much to eat, you certainly won't have any pasta, you can't flirt with any girls, and you'll never see Germany again."

"Gwuh-uh..." I try to respond with something, but I just don't know what to say. I want to go home. I really want to go home. I don't like this place, and I want to go back and do everything he said, but-but... I can't kill anybody! I... I...

I'm too weak. I couldn't actually hurt anyone even if I could make up my mind to do it, and I'm not even going to get that far. How could I? I've always been, and I still am, really, really afraid to die, and I don't see any way I could make someone else feel like that, more than they already do. And... I just can't...

But I really want to go home and nap and eat and hang out with Germany, and... Is Germany really okay? I don't know what happened, and Japan said he went home, but how can I know if I don't see him there? What if he just ended up somewhere else, somewhere scarier, and-and-and...

I hope he's okay, but why did he have to leave? I know Japan's still trying to help me, but he's kind of scary, and he killed me, and I never know what he's thinking, and he's trying to make me kill other nations. Germany wouldn't do that, mostly because he knows I can't, but... Oh, come back! Please come back! I don't know what I'm supposed to do! Germany...

"Italy." I look back up at him, even though I can't see his face I'm crying so hard. "I know this seems impossible for you," he continues, "but it's the only way you'll be able to get out." He turns to face the trees. "I'm going to track down everyone else and see what I can do. And you don't want to be all alone out here, do you?"

"N-no!"

"Let's go ahead, then. We can worry about what you'll do once we run into someone." He takes a few strides into the trees before pausing for me to catch up. I'm still shaking badly, but I can at least walk an almost-straight line now. I hurry after him, Germany's jacket dancing in the air behind me.

We make our way through the trees, Japan silently, me not so much. My head's starting to pound now, and I start thinking of just how hungry I am. I haven't eaten anything since lunch yesterday, and I don't think there's anything to eat out here. This morning I splashed around looking for crabs, but I tripped and almost drowned, so I didn't really find anything. And I don't think China has any of his village-places here, so that's not good, either.

I hope we get home soon. I don't like anything about this place, and there's not even anything to eat. And there's nothing to drink but three bottles of beer and saltwater. Germany yelled at me for trying to drink saltwater once...

Please come back, Germany! I'm scared!

But he's still not here. Japan and I continue walking for a while, with nothing happening but me getting really tired and feet-hurty. When Japan suddenly stops, I'm so unaware I walk right into him.

"What—" Japan silences me and carefully surveys the area, hand on his sword hilt.

I barely even see the knife flying toward us before Japan knocks it to the ground. Only then do I realize that could have killed me. My immediate reaction is to wail and run behind the closest tree. I dare to look just in time for a second knife to clang off Japan's sword.

"Please stop! I do not intend to harm you; however, I would like to speak with you," Japan says. There's no response for a second, and I'm terrified more knives are going to come at us. But when the other nation starts rustling the branches again, it's not to attack but to climb down. In another minute, a silent but fuming Belarus is in front of us with another knife in her hand.

"I don't care what you have to say," she starts in the quiet voice that makes me even more sure she's about to kill us. "Unless..." Her eyes flash, and she has her knife at Japan's throat before he can blink. "Do you know where Russia is? Where is my brother? _Where is my brother_?" she shrieks.

Japan's still unfazed somehow, despite a little trickle of blood already snaking down his collar. "I do not know where Russia is. There's a chance he may already be home, but if not..." He trails off, looking Belarus in the eye for a moment. She gives him a black look and digs her blade in a bit further.

And suddenly I realize that if she kills Japan, I'm next. Please don't let her kill you, Japan! I can't fight her, and I don't know what I'm going to do if I have to panic over whether you're coming back or not again!

" 'But if not', what?" she hisses.

"If not," Japan replies, "I could help you find him—though I won't do it for free."

Belarus takes this in and wavers, but she doesn't put down her knife. "And why do I need your help to find him?"

"He may be avoiding you," Japan answers, leaning back the slightest bit so the knife is no longer touching his skin, "but he'd be more than happy to pursue me to kill."

"What makes you think he'd be avoiding me?" she snaps. Still glowering, she pushes her knife back at Japan's neck.

"But..." She pauses in thought before it dawns on her face. "Of course! He's challenging himself to kill anyone he comes across, and because of his great love for me, he would never let himself cross my path!" She finally lowers her knife.

"Are you interested, then?" Japan eventually starts.

"I would do anything to find my brother," she says softly.

"All right." Japan wipes a little bit of the blood off his neck. "First of all, The Rules are real. Germany is already home, as I was the one he had to kill. Because of that, I'm afraid I won't offer my life as part of the deal, since killing me won't do you any good. But Italy and I do not know whom we have to kill, and we would like to make sure it isn't you. Both of us have already been killed, and there is no reason to believe you won't come back just as quickly as we did. In the end, you won't be harmed, and we'll be closer to getting home. That is our deal."

"And you find Russia," she adds, making it sound like a threat.

"Of course," Japan says with a nod.

"All right. What are we waiting for, then?" She slips her blade somewhere under her jacket and pulls her hair back to expose her neck.

"The blood will ruin your clothes," Japan starts. "Are you sure you don't want to—"

"Do it _now_! I can't stand any longer without him!"

"All right. Thank you very much for your cooperation," Japan says, readying his sword. The second I remember what he's about to do, I squeeze my eyes shut, even though it makes my head hurt worse. There's a stifled grunt of pain and a thud as she collapses to the ground.

I'm not sure how long I'm standing here shaking with my eyes shut tight before Japan calls my name. I look toward him, but the light suddenly hurts, and I go ahead and close my eyes again. Japan doesn't do anything for a second, and then I hear footsteps. Alarmed, I look back at him, but he's just stooping to pick up one of the knives.

"You should take this." He hands it to me, but it takes me a minute to go ahead and grasp it. "But," I start, glancing down at Belarus fearfully. She's not going to hurt me now, but seeing her in a pool of blood doesn't make me feel any better. "B-but it's hers," I get out. "What if she gets angry at me?"

"You need it more than her. We know she has two more, and if previous meetings are any indication, that's probably not all of them."

"O-okay," I respond hesitantly, looking at the metal for a second before putting it in one of Germany's coat pockets.

It's kind of uncomfortable wearing his coat. It's too hot out here, and this is way too big on me. But I don't have any pockets, and... I can at least sort of feel like Germany's still watching out for me with this on. I guess it's still just a jacket, but... It's got my back, and I guess it kind of smells like him, too. Beer, wurst, and sweat. Mostly beer.

"Are you listening to me?" I jump, having no idea he was talking. "U-um, yessir?" I stammer.

He sighs. "It's going to be a few hours before she comes back. We'll have to keep careful watch to see when she's just starting to wake up. And that's when you'll kill her."

"Wh-what? No, no, no, no, no! I'm not killing her! She'll be angry at me!"

"Italy, she already agreed to this. And we'll be out of her sight by the time she wakes up afterward, so she can hardly hurt you."

"B-b-but... I..." The knife suddenly seems really heavy in its pocket. "I-I can't! I'm not going to kill anybody!"

"You're never going home if you don't."

"I know, I know, I just can't! I'm s-sorry!" For some reason, I'm gripping my head as I break down crying again.

"Italy..." Japan breathes, shaking his head. "Don't... worry about it, okay? I can't make you kill anyone. It's still your only sure way home, but there's a chance something else could work. I know Germany has to be back home trying his hardest to get you out of here. So take a deep breath, and let's get moving."

"Okay... Okay..." I try to get my breathing back under control. "But what about Belarus?"

"She'll be fine."

"But what about the deal?"

Japan studies me for a moment before replying. "We have to move from her, or she'll keep Russia away."

"O-oh, right!" With a sniffle, I disentangle my hands from my hair.

"Come on," Japan says with a small nod, taking a step forward. "Let's get going."

I follow him.


	6. Take Your Chances

Author's Note: Sorry for the wait! I kind of hit a block after finally finishing _Miserable_. But I should be more focused on this now, so things should pick up.

Of course, I can get over subsequent blocks faster with the aid of reviews... *overly-blatant hinting*

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><p><em>Hungary<em>

I wake up to harsh sunlight, my head pounding like mad.

What is going on? I don't think this is a hangover, and it's not like I've had much to drink about recently, anyway. Unless you count that meeting. H-hang on... The meeting...

About the time the headache is down to a somewhat reasonable level, I remember how I got here. I'm so going to kill Russia once I'm in the condition for it. But my head hurts way too much now. I still feel too tired to stand and look around. Wonder how long it's going to be before I'm all healed up...

There doesn't seem to be a reliable timeframe for nations' wounds healing. If they're not fatal wounds, we're usually patched up a little quicker than humans. When we die, though... It gets kind of weird then. We still heal at a fairly normal rate—though we don't really have anything to compare ourselves to there—and it still depends on the damage we took. Bleeding out from a smaller wound doesn't take as long as getting a few limbs blown off or something. I can't think of a time I took damage like this, so I'm not sure how long this'll take, or how long it's already taken. The sun's pretty bright, even though I was killed in the afternoon, so it could be the next day. Probably is.

Hmm... It might take about as long to heal as a bullet to the head. That death's pretty quick, but it does rip up your brain pretty good, and it's happened to me a few times. In that case, I'll probably be better in an hour or two. Urgh. I don't know if I can handle this sort of headache for that long. If only we didn't wake up until we were all nice and healthy again...

Oh, well. I could be doing more important things than complain about my head. It's still a little early, but I should at least try to get a good look around.

Managing somehow to pull myself into a sitting position against a tree, I peer out around me. To one side is the shore, waves lapping the beach softly. The sand has a few red patches whose reek I hadn't smelled over my own blood. But no one's around, so I have no way to tell what could have happened.

To the other side are more trees, some of their lower branches and neighboring bushes snapped and stomped on. Further along the line where forest meets beach is the tree with The Rules pinned on it.

Lovely stuff, those rules. They're technically to blame for Russia killing me—not that I'll forgive him so much for that—and I'm sure other nations have decided to follow them, too. If we can't find a way out, we'll all be roaming around killing each other in a few days. Or we might already be there. I haven't exactly been alive to know what's been going on.

...Everyone's going to be killing each other. That includes Austria. And considering he has no weapons, along with what happens the majority of the time he tries to fight by himself... I really need to go find him now.

I drag myself to my feet, but I have to lean so heavily on this tree I don't think I'll be on the move anytime soon. Why can't I be healed up already? I understand the headache; that's reasonable with the damage I took. But why does the rest of me have to be so run ragged?

Well, it's not like I know what's going on, anyway. Sometimes it takes longer than it should, sometimes it doesn't take as long... Is it our fitness, or the support of our people, or what? We haven't exactly experimented on it. After all, if there was something physical that made us tick... I think we're all afraid of what could happen if the humans figured out a way to use it. Not that it would only be used for evil or anything, but... It's pretty unsettling. Which is why we haven't let ourselves be experimented on to have any idea of what goes on after we die. We just know we go down, there's a little bit of time for our soul to get out and stretch its legs, and then we start healing. And we always wake up a little bit before we're completely back to normal. That's the devilish part, urgh.

I just stand here a while, watching a few clouds scud across the sky. I'd rather jump back into things now, but it's not going to happen. Austria's probably all right for now, anyway. He may not like getting his hands dirty, but he's not stupid enough to rest out on the beach, unprotected. He still won't be so well off without me, since he can't stay hidden forever. And I know I can defend him. I still have my frying pan on me, you know, just in case. If I hadn't been caught so off-guard, I would have bashed Russia's head in before he could get me down. And if that treatment hurts as much as the damage I took... Hah. He has to wait for it, but he'll get his just desserts.

The few clouds have strung out into nothing by the time I rest enough to get going. My head's still pounding, of course, which doesn't help my mood, but my legs aren't too weary to carry me. I go ahead and start into the forest, carefully checking every sizeable piece of foliage for a hiding Austria. Progress is slow, especially when I can only go about ten meters before I have to take a break, but I keep going.

Eventually I hear voices coming from my right. I get behind a tree and take out my frying pan before I can quite figure out who it is. As he draws closer, I can make out enough words—enough swearing, at least—to tell it's Romano. He's really not much of a threat, but I doubt he'd be cursing this much if he were alone. I eventually pick up two sets of footsteps underneath the barrage of dirty words, and soon enough Romano identifies Spain as the source of his anger.

So it's just those two, then? I try to make out more footsteps or other voices, but there are none. Hm. So everyone's more or less split up already. I guess I should have suspected that, since we hardly get along well enough to survive in the wild together.

Ha. If it weren't for the whole killing-each-other part, this would be terribly exciting. Hunting down game, trying to figure out the best way off... But we're not so lucky. This is hardly a weekend retreat.

I stay still, though I really don't think Spain or Romano is much of a threat right now, until the two have crossed my path obliviously. They go on through the trees, and I wait until they're almost out of sight before moving on.

I don't find any others in the forest, and before I know it, I'm back at the shore. Either this island is smaller than I thought, or I got turned around a little bit. Considering my brain's not in the best condition right now, it's probably the latter.

Taking a weary look around, I decide to take a little swim. I'm horribly sweaty from the trek, and my hair's a horror from the beating. I manage to disrobe and clean myself off without anyone else coming upon me. It's still unnervingly quiet as I dry off and put on a few layers of my dress, and by the time I get my shoes back on, I'm more than ready to get going again.

I don't know why I feel so uneasy. I should be glad no one's around to to cross killing me off his to-do list, but...

Maybe it's just the feel of the island. From the looks of the shore earlier, I wasn't the only one to die so far. Even if logic says I should be feeling all right, it really can't compete with the dread of this place in general.

I walk along the shore for a while, and it becomes more and more striking just how thirsty I am. Can't lose all that sweat and blood without needing a bit of water to replace it. But I didn't run into any streams, and I can't very well desalinate the seawater, so there's not much I can do. Hope I run into something before I dehydrate to death, too.

More figures emerge in the distance. I slow my pace and listen, but they don't seem to be talking at the moment. It looks like another group of two, so it probably isn't Austria...

I take a route around them, just to be safe. They don't notice me. I think the one with brown hair is asleep. The blonde's sitting up. Hmm... I can't see their faces, but I think they're probably Poland and Lithuania. Makes sense. They certainly trust each other...

Starting to get the feeling a few too many groups have taken a liking to the beach, I pull a bit further into the trees. Where would Austria be hiding? I know he was with all of the rest of us when we got to The Rules, and then... I wasn't standing near him when I went down, so maybe he got pushed out by the crowd? There could still be a larger group of nations hanging around, if they think this is serious enough to stop their quarrels. Although there's probably just as good a chance he panicked, too. I probably would have if he had gone down. Except Russia would be dead before he could take a second swing, but that's just me. Austria's not exactly tough enough to try that himself.

So where would he be hiding? I'm sure he's up in a tree somewhere, since he'll be avoiding all the mulch and such on the ground. And he's less likely to get caught if he's not out in the open. Unless he's out looking for me...

Well, it's not like I've been moving much the past day. He would have already found me. Or he got lost.

That thought gets a sigh out of me. Please tell me he's not wandering around lost somewhere. Of course, he would at least know that I was near the shore...

And the more I think about it, the more sure I am that he's been looking for me since things calmed down. I should have just stayed where I was! Urgh. I know I wasn't in the best position to do much thinking at the time, but still.

I guess I should go find a good spot near the shore and stay there. One of us needs to be stationary, or we'll never run into each other. And unless he's been caught, he's probably in better condition to travel than me.

I drag myself a little farther along the treeline, so I'm just far enough to avoid detection by the two I just saw. Then I sit down with a fwump and sigh. Just about everything but my head has healed by now, but that doesn't mean I'm not tired. I haven't eaten anything since lunch, yesterday, I guess, nor have I had a drop to drink. Maybe I'll be able to find some dew or something tomorrow morning... Or I could try a dew trap with some seawater... Or did that work in this sort of environment? My head's still too foggy to do much work.

Well, here's hoping I find something. Or Austria finds something and brings it. It would also be quite nice for him to find me, too...

I close my eyes and relax, hovering on the edge of sleep until the sun has nearly set. It doesn't look like much of anyone will be finding me today. I guess I'll just go to sleep...

Something behind me makes a noise. I apprehensively withdraw my weapon and unclose my eyes, though I don't stand just yet. Someone's here, and while I'm in the open, I don't need to bring them to me by making my own noise.

A patch of silence passes, and I start to wonder if I imagined it. I wouldn't put it past me at this point, even if my head's finally healed. But I can't bet on that.

The sun has touched the horizon by the time another noise sounds. But it's not a crackling of branches this time. It's someone saying my name.

"Austria?" I start, feeling like the voice was his but not absolutely sure. I look over my shoulder into the forest, and all I can catch is a blinding red flash from a set of eyeglasses.

"Yes, it is I," he answers, pushing closer. "Are you all right?"

"More or less." I get to my feet by the time he's approached. "How about you?" His clothes are already pretty scuffed-up, although I guess running through a forest will do that to you. He doesn't look too bad otherwise.

"I've certainly been better," he replies, adjusting his glasses. "And... I apologize for abandoning you. I couldn't get through the crowd to help you, and I got a bit swept away by the stampede afterward."

I smile. "That's okay. I survived." I pause. "Kind of." I push a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Anyway, nothing's happened to you, has it?"

"Not really." He wipes some sweat from his forehead, and I notice he's still wearing his thick dress jacket. "Just a bit of hiding and wandering. I almost ran into the Allies, but they didn't see me."

"The Allies?" It doesn't make much sense for them to be together. They all hate each other, and at least one of them is running around killing people for kicks and giggles.

"Minus Russia," Austria concedes. He looks at the sinking sun for a moment before turning back. "I... really should have stopped him. I just..."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm all better now, and we've found each other. We can move on and figure this out together."

He nods. "All right."

"I don't suppose you've found any food or water?"

"I'm afraid not. I saw a few squirrels, but I had no way of getting them."

"Well," I respond, lifting my frying pan with a grin, "now we do. Do you want to wait until tomorrow?"

"That would probably be best."

"Okay. Let's get a good night's sleep, then." I put my frying pan up and bunch up some of my unnecessary layers of skirt for a pillow. Austria takes off his jacket to do the same, but hesitates.

"Oh, it's all scratched up, anyway. You won't be wearing it much." He just gets the chance to open his mouth before I continue. "And that's hardly wasting it. You need it more now as cushioning than you will later as a jacket."

"All right, all right." His exhale is laugh-like as he wads up his jacket and lies down next to me.

For a second I think it's not that good an idea to just sleep out in the open. Others are going to be after us. But it's too dark to try making a shelter, and I'm tired, anyway. I'm sure Austria is, too. It shouldn't be too easy for someone to kill us before we even wake up. We should be all right.

I close my eyes, scoot a little closer to Austria so I feel a bit less vulnerable, and drift to sleep.


	7. Nowhere Man

Author's Note: Laaaaa revieeeeeeeews~~~ Reviews make me happy :D

While I can't say this will be updating as fast as the _Brutal_ series—I'm being a bit stricter on the word count, which is 1000 words higher in the first place, and I can't switch points of view at leisure—I... Uh... 頑張るぞ! *too lazy to translate...*

Oh, and this is back to the second day (first whole day) again. Derp. Hopefully things get a bit more spaced out soon...

Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing, and please keep it up!

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><p><em>Canada<em>

I got a pretty good night's sleep last night. I have four people watching my back, so I don't have to be so worried. That, and no one ever woke me up for watch...

But I'm pretty well awake now. We were trying to reach a consensus on how much we should have for breakfast, which isn't that good an idea in the first place. We started arguing almost immediately. And by "we", I mean "they". I know by now it's pretty worthless to try to make my voice heard while they're screaming at each other like petty schoolchildren. I'll just wait until things have cooled down. Not that they tend to hear me then, either...

"No, we shouldn't eat anything," France insists as China continues to glare him down. "I know we're hungry, but we just don't have enough water to eat."

"I am _not _starving when we have food right in front of us, aru!" China crosses his arms. "And it's not like I haven't thought about that, aru." He motions behind him, where his wok is precariously perched on branches over a small fire. "I've been boiling that for us to drink."

"Dude, I don't think that works on seawater," America brings up slowly.

"That's not seawater, aru! It's some old rainwater or something I found in a ditch."

"When did you do that?" England asks, frowning. "While you were supposed to be on watch?"

"Uh." China hesitates. "But we have enough to let ourselves eat, aru. That's the important part."

"Okay, then, let's eat!" America announces, pulling out two cans of Spom he had.

"You idiot!" England snaps, stopping him before he can open them both. "Don't eat that much! We have no idea how long we're going to be stuck here!"

"But I'm not eating that much," America responds, honestly confused. "It's not even all of the Spom I have on me."

"Hrmph." England backs off. "Just don't come crying to me when you've run out of food in a few hours."

"Well, you know, technically all of that food is mine, so you don't really have the right to keep me from eating it."

"If you touch any of _my _share," China growls, "you'll have a lot more to worry about than being hungry, aru."

"Okay, okay," France intervenes, happy to step between the two since China isn't brandishing his wok at the moment, "let's just keep what we handed out last night. We can all worry about our individual shares until we run out." America opens his mouth to reject, but France snubs him. "You already have a bit more than the rest of us, America. And it's not like any amount will hold you for long, the way you shove things down your throat without even tasting them..."

Wow. Even the attempt to get us to get along turns into an insult. I really shouldn't be surprised at this point, but I do wish they weren't all so blatantly rude. We're going to be fighting for our lives here, and they still have to fling insults whenever possible. I'm glad they're not exchanging blows anymore, but, of course, that probably won't last long. Not with this group.

I wonder if we'd do any better broken up a bit more. But there's no way to draw lines without making groups that still hate each other. Old rivalries, new economic competitions... We live too long not to accumulate a million enemies. Of course, I don't count, since no one knows I'm around to hate...

Somehow we end up settling on France's idea, though America is still far from happy. I don't have any objections myself, even though it is a little bit unfair to America. He'd be fine with it, anyway, as long as we throw the word "hero" around a few times.

After some deliberation, I open a can of Spom, even though I've never liked the stuff. Hopefully we won't be stuck here too long, and this stuff probably has more nutrition than the Snackers since it's at least some sort of meat. I think.

I nibble at about an eighth of it before somewhat putting the lid back on. The others have eaten about the same, although England opted to start with the Snackers, and China's too busy getting the water to cool to start eating yet. And America goes through a whole tin, but that's to be expected.

China announces the water's cool enough to drink, and we all sort of gravitate to the wok.

"So how are we going to divvy it out?" France starts.

"Well, you're definitely not drinking straight out of the thing, aru." China frowns, apparently not thinking of this beforehand. We all contemplate this for a second before I get an idea. "Um, we could use one of the empty cans of Spom." Some of the others actually look at me in response, and my mood lifts a little at being heard for once.

"Ah," England says with a nod, "good idea, America."

And it crashes down again.

France reprimands him for doing this yet again, England argues this is only the second time, and the argument as usual turns into them insulting each other. As I sigh in resignation, America decides to be the logical one for this minute and carefully makes sure his freshly-emptied tin really is empty. China does the water-ladling himself, and I'm rewarded by getting the first portion. The water more than the gesture makes me feel better. I down it quickly, even though it doesn't taste very good, and wipe off where I drank before handing it back.

By the time America receives his share, I have to go use the bathroom. I stand up and inform the others I'll be back, but they've apparently gone back to not noticing me. "You'll at least come if I start screaming bloody murder, right?" I get no response.

With a sigh, I go into the forest, anyway. I won't go far.

I find a suitable spot, check one more time for anyone watching, and do what I have to. For a second I think I hear someone coming, but I can't see anyone, so maybe it's just an animal.

Feeling a bit uneasy, I get back to my feet and start making my way back. I remember the way perfectly, so there are no problems there, but I somehow manage to get my trouser leg caught in a prickly bush. I try to pull the little branches out carefully, but they won't come so easily. I end up having to jerk my leg around until they rip themselves free. Of course, this sends me stumbling forward. I just manage to stop myself before I fall straight into the...

...the grey coat right in front of me... that smells of vodka...

Frozen, I slowly crane my neck to look up at Russia's face. My heart immediately leaps to my throat, and I stop breathing.

I-I-I should probably run now. Or scream for help. Running's probably a better idea.

I just start to re-balance myself when it occurs to me that Russia wasn't actually looking at me. I dare to look back at him. He's pulling a bug, which seems to have just fallen from the trees, out of his hair. Apparently this was the only purpose of his stopping, because he goes right back to walking, bumping into my shoulder as he continues to push through the woods.

I stand here, mouth agape, for a good minute before I've recovered enough from the shock to think. He just didn't notice me. This really shouldn't be that much of a surprise, but... If there's one time I get noticed, it's when someone's going to hurt me. And I'm pretty darn sure he's planning to hurt anyone he comes across.

Really, Russia? I was right in front of your big, fat nose and everything... You even ran into me... Although this is the same nation who sat on me for a whole meeting because he didn't realize I was in the chair...

As much as I hate being invisible, I guess I should be glad he didn't see me. I am quite glad my head isn't being bashed in by now. The thought makes me cringe. Yeah. I should be perfectly fine with not having to die.

After another minute, I start heading back to camp. It's almost exactly in the direction Russia was go—

Oh, crap.

I break into a run, stumbling over a few more roots and plants than before, and Russia's within sight again soon enough. He's not quite going in the right direction, but he's far too close to ignore.

Breaking through the last of the trees, I emerge on the shore gasping for breath. The others are about two meters to my right, but they still manage to realize something's up and look over here. "What's going on?" France starts distressedly, getting to his feet.

"Russia's coming," I manage to get out before having to take a few more gasping breaths. "To the... that way," I say, gesturing to my left.

"We should get going, then," England says, standing as well. "Good catch, Canada."

I almost smile at him getting my identity right, but then I realize it's probably just an extra effort to show up France.

"What, we're not going to fight?" America responds incredulously. "I understand if _you guys _are scared 'cuz you couldn't fight your way out of a paper bag, but I can handle him."

"I'll show you who can't fight his way out of a paper bag!" England socks America in the gut, and the two commence to bat each other around.

"You have to be kidding me!" I cry. "This is no time to be fighting; Russia's going to be trying to kill us in-in less than a minute!"

"Seriously, break it up, aru!" China manages to wrench England from the fight, though he's doing his best to escape. "Really! At this rate, we're going to kill each other before he even gets here, aru! Let's get out of here so we have one less fight to worry about, aru."

"Okay, okay," America says, straightening out his jacket. "Sorry about that."

"Don't you pretend to act mature again," England grumbles as China renders him fit to be released.

"No, really, I shouldn't be starting fights by insulting you. Even if it is all true."

"You little—!"

"Can we please move now?" I interrupt desperately.

"Yes, let's go," France says, taking a few steps toward the woods. "You're not going to make me drag you, are you, England?"

"Don't even think about it," England replies, striding into the lead.

So at last we move into the trees and start putting some distance between us and Russia. No one's fighting at the moment, no one's arguing, and eerie as it is I can't help but relish the silence. A few birds are chirping, some branches are rustling, and I can still hear the waves on the shore from here. This would be nice if it wasn't hot, we had a way to get home, and we weren't running from a pipe-wielding psychopath. Things just never tend to be wholly enjoyable, do they...?

We push a bit further before stopping to rest. There's no sense in going too far, or we'll run into someone else. And I'm sure that could only be a bad thing, with The Rules and all.

I wonder if those are real... I hope not, because I can't even yell at people, let alone kill them. I'm sure there's another way off. It'll be hard getting along and defending ourselves until then, but we'll be able to. And I'm in no great danger since nobody knows I'm here to kill me. I never thought being so ignored I have to wonder if I really exist would ever really be a good thing. It's still depressing, but at least it's useful, I guess.

We just stay quiet for a while, China anxiously brandishing his now-empty wok, until more than enough time has passed for Russia to be long gone.

"Welp, I think it's okay to go back," America starts, shuffling through his shirt to retrieve a candy bar.

"You really need to stop squandering your food," sighs France. America somehow eats the bar in one bite and decides that in no way impedes his ability to talk. "We'll find more food." He sighs. "Man, I wish that meeting wasn't so long, or I wouldn't have already eaten most of it."

"Most of it?" England repeats, raising an eyebrow. "How much of that junk do you keep on you?"

"Well, my record's 48 tins of Spom and 19 Snackers," America replies, puffing out his chest proudly.

"How is that even possible?" France asks, shaking his head.

"Oh, it's not," England scoffs. "He's just trying to impress us."

"It is too possible!" America responds. "Once we're back home, I'll just have to demonstrate!" He crosses his arms in finality.

"Once we're home, huh?" I murmur, closing my eyes for a second.

"Yup!" America replies. "Because we're all going to get home. Before we go hungry, before we lose our immortality or whatever that dumb piece of paper says. We're all going home."

England sighs. "Worryingly sure of yourself as always."

"Yeah, well, what kind of hero would I be if I left any of you guys behind?" He grins, and I find myself smiling back. I don't think I'm quite as convinced as him, but I think we can get out. We may squabble far too much, but when we put our heads together, we can do some incredible stuff.

Here's hoping getting off this island alive is one of them.


	8. Love Bites

Author's Note: Thanks so much for all of your reviews! I can't believe how quickly they're accumulating :D

oceanlover: I don't know about anyone else, but even if I knew I wasn't going to die, I wouldn't really want my head smashed in. :P

Oh, and I'll be using the English translation (like in the manga) of Lithuania's nickname, if only for my own sick and twisted reasons.

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><p><em>Lithuania<em>

I am thoroughly exhausted. On top of running for my life almost all yesterday afternoon, I've also had to keep moving almost all night because _someone _insisted we can't rest without finding good shelter and a food source _and _a water source... Dawn hadn't quite arrived by the time I just collapsed and fell asleep.

Judging from the sun—neither of us has a watch on—I probably got about five hours of sleep, but I don't feel rested at all. Now just _has_ to be one of those times sleeping makes me more worn-down. As if this wasn't bad enough already. Just when I finally get to move away from Russia, here I am having to worry for my life again. It's one big mood killer.

And Russia's not even the only one I need to worry about. Whoever believes The Rules are true is going to be after Poland and me both. And sooner or later, I'll probably have to worry about him killing me, too!

...Okay, that's not going to happen. He's just as dopey as usual, despite realizing we need to break out our survival skills. And he apparently forgot those, because we haven't got anything but exhausted after all that trouble last night. Although he seems to have had a better morning's sleep than I had. He's just as hyper as usual.

"...and we could, like, build a hammock over here, so when we, like, don't feel like climbing up to our treehouses, we can, like, still rest, you know?"

So now you're talking about resting. "One thing, though: how are we going to build any of that without so much as a knife?"

"We can, like, figure it out. You're smart enough."

"Thanks..." I sigh, still leaning back against a tree at this edge of the woods. "But how long do you think we'll be staying here? If we try to build something, I'd rather go with a boat. Maybe a kayak would work all right? I haven't done anything like this in so long..."

"Ooh, a kayak!" Poland responds enthusiastically. "That sounds totally fun! And we'll, like, need oars, too, right? Ooh! Can we, like, paint mine pink?"

"We don't have paint," I deadpan wearily.

"But we can, like, make some, can't we? You can figure something out!"

"That doesn't mean I'll be able to do it!" Exhaling again, I close my eyes. "I don't think a kayak's feasible, anyway. We'll probably have to build a raft, but I feel like it would fall apart before we could find another shore. And that's if we even get that far..."

"Oh, cheer up!" he reprimands, throwing an arm over my shoulders. "We're totally going to make it out of here, all right? Like, have a little faith in us. We can do it." Normally I might be a bit more convinced, but I'm just too tired and worried and hungry and thirsty to attempt optimism. Things aren't looking good right now, and Russia hasn't even found us yet. No one's even found us yet. They're probably all occupied getting all of the food and water before we can find it ourselves. America alone is probably capable of that...

"Maybe America would help us!" I say out loud. Poland gives me a look, and I laugh weakly. "Not that I don't trust you or anything, all right? Just... You know, if we carve a boat, we'll need to fell a tree, and we don't exactly have any axes. But I'm sure America could just uproot one like that!" I finish with a snap.

"Like, told you you could come up with a plan."

"Yeah, yeah, you told me so," I sigh with a smile. "But let's see... Once we have it uprooted, we'll still need a tool to carve it. I doubt there's anything here that we'd be able to use for long, so it would probably have to be something manufactured we managed to bring with us. I know I didn't bring anything useful, but..." Taking the hint, Poland checks his pockets and shrugs. "All I have is, like, a pen."

"Yeah, that won't help much. America might have a pocketknife or something? Hmm..." I go through the list of people I remember to be here with us. "Oh! We _know _Belarus has a few knives! She would help us out, I'm sure. I'd like to go make sure she's all right, anyway." She might be safe enough from Russia, but for some reason, the others don't seem to like her that much. And I'm sure there are plenty of dangerous things here other than just us. She's probably as hungry and thirsty as we are... Oh, I hope not! I don't want to let anything like that happen to her.

I'm broken out of my thoughts by sniggering and snap my gaze back to Poland. "What?"

"You're totally blushing right now."

"Wh-why would I be blushing?" I stammer back, rubbing my cheek like it would make the red go away.

"Oh, you always blush when you think about Belarus. It's just, like, adorbz."

"I'm trying to decide if that was a compliment or not..." I exhale, scratching my scalp. "So, let's go ahead and find her, if you're up to it."

"Um, maybe we should, like, look for America first," he starts, almost looking worried. "I mean, you, like, mentioned him first and all..."

"Well, I know, but I wasn't thinking. I really want to make sure Belarus is all right first."

"Well, you can, like, check on her a little later." Under his breath, he adds, "The later we find her, the less time she has to abuse you."

I raise an eyebrow and frown. "Abuse me? What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, Lithy, nothing," he sighs. "Let's just, like, get going and see who we find first."

"All right." It's not like we could figure out where Belarus would be, anyway.

Where _is _everyone, anyway? I haven't seen a soul since we rested here. There are only twenty of us, and we're in groups, so I can see how we haven't run into each other, but... Unless everyone's perfectly happy in one spot, we'll start making contact. There can't be too many water sources, so we'll probably have a tendency to congregate there. Russia may have already found it and is hiding there, waiting for us to be driven to it...

A little shiver runs down my arm. I do not like this place. I like being nice and safe in my own home, with enough food and enough water and some good old air-conditioning. Man, what I would do for some air-conditioning right now...

But wishful thinking's going to get me nowhere. I'm better off taking this step by step. And now that Poland's calmed down some, I should be able to do that. Find Belarus, find America, find food, find water. Er, not necessarily in that order. Water might be a bit more important than tracking America down for a boat. We'll need to stock up on food and water, too, since we probably won't find much out on the ocean when we're rowing out there. And that's if kayaking out of here even works.

I don't know what I think about The Rules. They're completely ridiculous, that's for sure. Our immortality's not going to stop lasting, and there's no way we could be kept on this island until we kill whomever. And there's no way we could even be here in the first place, but that's sort of beyond denying... Unless this is all a dream or something, but I'm pretty sure that's not the case, either.

I just don't know. I mean, anyone who hangs out with Poland of all nations should know illogical things happen an awful lot. But I have to rely on some solid strain of thought or I'll go crazy. And I also have enough experience with crazy nations to know that that is not a good thing.

So, nothing makes sense as usual. The stakes are just a lot higher if something about The Rules is true. And, well, there's not much I can do to change that, so I'll stick with the survival plan and try not to think too much of what could go wrong. Because I'm so good at not worrying about anything...

We continue through the woods. It hasn't become any cooler, that's for sure. What little remains of my energy is being sapped away too quickly for my liking. How am I going to find Belarus—er, food and water—if I can't make myself keep going? Even Poland, the one with perpetual energy, isn't moving along all that quickly. We'll just have to make whatever progress we can.

It's just another minute before I buckle down and get Poland to stay still so we can rest. He doesn't object this time, oddly enough, and we sit down at the base of one of the thicker trees. I have to struggle not to fall asleep, though I'm starting to wonder if that would just be better, anyway.

No, I've already risked resting in the open once. My odds won't be so great if I try it again.

Shelter, huh? I guess we'll have to figure out some of that, too. Poland's idea of an elaborate series of treehouses might be a bit much, but we'll have to do something. We could at least snap off a few limbs and make a nest-ish thing. Then we'll be off the ground, away from the others, and we hopefully won't fall. Of course, we'll have to find the energy to do that first. There'll be a lot of wrenching branches off and climbing up and down... Oh, boy. I'm not sure if we'll be able to swing that today. Maybe we'll just climb up somewhere and strap ourselves in by our belts or something. Then again, just thinking about dangling six meters in the air by a thin strip of leather makes me feel sick with fear.

So maybe we'll just take our chances on the ground. Ohh, that's still not a good idea. Nothing we can do here is a good idea.

I catch my eyelids sinking shut and force them back open. Now's not a good time to be sleeping. For all I know, everyone could be running around hunting for everyone else right now. More of us will be asleep at night, so that's the time to sleep.

To keep myself awake, I start drumming my fingers against each other, varying the rhythm.

"You, like, ready to go?" Turning to look at him, I realize he's just dying to get up and do something.

"Ready enough, I guess," I mutter, trying to push myself up and failing. Poland pops to his feet and offers a hand. It still takes me a little too much effort to stand.

I reorient myself and start back in the direction we had been moving. We've only covered a few steps when Poland stops me by tugging on my shirtsleeve.

"What?" I start, confused.

"I think we should, like, go this way instead." I just look at him. "C'mon," he insists, tugging again, this time hard enough to make me stumble that way.

"What's wrong with..." I trail off once I actually look back ahead and see the silhouette.

Someone else is here! What did I think, this was just another one of Poland's weird whims? It's too dangerous, and now someone knows exactly where we—

Wait.

"Belarus?" I stay frozen, staring at the decidedly feminine figure until I'm absolutely sure it's her.

"Lithy!" Poland hisses, jerking my arm away so I have to stumble.

"Don't worry; it's Belarus," I tell him, pulling my sleeve out of his grasp. "Belarus!" I call happily, taking a few steps forward. "Are you all right? I know you can take care of yourself, but I've still been worried about you."

I make out a knife in her hand as we draw closer, and my mood manages to lift even higher. This is all working out better than I had hoped!

Suddenly I'm distracted by a cut across my cheek. I put my fingers to it instinctively as some blood drips down. When did I get this? I guess I must have scratched myself on a branch earlier and not noticed. Ouch, it smarts, though.

I look back at Belarus and realize she's not holding the knife anymore. Was I just imagining it? Man, I'm out of it today. But that's okay, because Belarus is here, and she's all right!

"Have you found any water?" I go on. "If you're still thirsty, you can come with us, and we'll look together." I feel my face heat up for reasons other than the cut. "I-if you want to, that is."

"Why would I come with you?" she responds, voice low. "I will only travel with my brother!" She takes the final stride separating this, and something cold touches my neck. "Have you seen him? _Have you seen him_?"

Always Russia, huh? I guess I should have expected this, but...

"I haven't seen him. I'm sorry," I answer, hating how upset she is over this. "But we can... look for him together if you want!"

"Lies!" she spits. "All of you, trying to manipulate me!"

I cry, "What are you—"

And suddenly Poland's pulling her away from me. She turns on him, knife ready, and he gets a slash across the chest for his efforts.

"Poland! What are you doing?" I shout, catching him as he stumbles backward.

"She was, like, about to kill you!" he yells, struggling back to his feet.

"What? She would never do that!" I see Belarus hissing, ready to lunge for him again. "Belarus, stop! He's just tired and doesn't know what he's doing! We're not going to hurt you, okay?"

"Not going to hurt _her_?" Poland repeats incredulously. "Like, open your eyes! She threw a knife at your face and, like, almost cut your neck open!"

"What are you talking about? She hasn't hurt me!" I turn to Belarus just as she slashes at Poland, who's still standing between me and her. He just manages to keep her from cutting anywhere but his forearm.

"Stop it!" I say, pushing Poland away and looking at Belarus imploringly. "You can talk some sense into him. Just tell him you're not going to hurt me, okay? He'll leave you alone." She stares back at me, eyelids flared.

"Lithy!"

And suddenly there's a flash of pain across my neck, and I only have a second to gasp confusedly before everything goes dark.


	9. A Job To Do

Author's Note: Kyaaaah, reviews! Lookielookie it's almost 100 :D

I love your comments so much! Please keep it up, and I'll do my best to write quickly and well!

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><p><em>Japan<em>

It's nearly nightfall, and we haven't found any other nations. We haven't had much success in the way of food or water, either; I saw a few squirrels and rabbit tracks, but I wasn't able to catch any. Water is still incredibly hard to come by; we've found a few stagnant puddles, but we won't be drinking those unless we get desperate. It's already a bit unwise to resort to the beer, since that can dehydrate us, but we're taking our chances. I feel we're going to get rain soon, even if the sky lacks clouds. Old bones have their uses.

I wipe some sweat off my brow and forge onwards. I'll rest a bit after the sun goes down. I have to commit as much time as possible to finding the others, and they're less likely to be moving around after nightfall. I'm exhausted, but I will at least push myself that far.

As for Italy... He wails and insists on resting far too often, but his energy really is as ongoing as it seems. He's still a bit depressed from his drinking bout this morning, and Germany's disappearance, even if I reassure Italy that he's safe at home. It's a bit disheartening for the most cheerful one of us to be in such an irreconcilable state. I'm not quite able to cheer him up, but I'll be able to go on whether or not he's happy. I have to, and that's that.

The edges of the trees start to take on an orange tint as the sun approaches the horizon. The dim light obscures more of the forest floor; I can still make out bushes and roots, but there are no more animal tracks to be seen.

I find myself stopping at one of the bush-like plants to investigate it. Everything's beginning to look red, but I'm quite sure the berries here are that shade nonetheless.

"Italy," I start, turning toward him. He's taken my pause as a signal that we're stopping to rest, apparently. He's sprawled out on the ground, all but asleep. "Italy, please don't sleep. We're not finished travelling for today, I'm afraid. I may have found some food, though."

He immediately perks up at the mention of food. "What kind of food?"

"Strawberries." I trace over a few of the fruits carefully, checking their ripeness again.

"I like strawberries..." he starts, still missing his usual enthusiasm but more bright than earlier.

"Good." I start picking them, careful not to take all of the ripe ones at once, and give Italy half. He smiles at me thankfully and starts eating.

"Itadakimasu," I say to myself, biting into one. The first two strawberries only make me feel hungrier, but the taste and juice alone is enough to make up for that. By the time I finish my handful, I'm glad I took the time to stop. The sun has almost disappeared by now. I may not be any closer to finding the others, but I'm a bit rested and ready to keep going.

"Are you ready to keep moving, Italy?" I start. He finished his share long before I did; the leaves, as well as the cores, are tossed on the ground around him.

"But it's almost nighttime," he starts, eyebrows tilting outward. "And I'm really tired, and I wanna sleep."

"We won't keep travelling all night," I start, "just for a few more minutes. You may sleep after that."

"But..." He sniffles.

"Italy." I extend a hand to help him up. "You can manage it." He still isn't happy, but he gets to his feet. We get moving again.

I'm not sure quite how long we trek in the dark, but I'm dead tired before I can find anyone. I suppose I'll have to turn in for the day. I inform Italy of this, and he flops on the ground, falling asleep before I can even mention shelter. Since I don't think I'll be dragging him anywhere, I consign myself to a light sleep, so I can catch anyone who tries to hurt us.

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><p>No one tries to hurt us. I'm woken up twice by critters running through leafy branches, but otherwise I get a decent amount of rest. I'm fully awake quite literally at the break of dawn. Italy isn't.<p>

I try to wake him, but nothing seems to work. The sun is already halfway above the horizon by the time I stop to think. I haven't had to wake him up myself, but I'm sure if I try my best I can figure it out. He would probably wake up for food, but I don't quite have any right now, and the strawberry bush is a good walk away. His other main motivator is fear, so...

I kneel next to him so my sheath is right by his ear and slowly withdraw my katana, letting the dull side scrape against the inside.

He squeaks and tumbles away from me before he's even aware of what's going on.

"Italy. Please get up. It's time to go." He mumbles something utterly unintelligible and rubs his eyes. "Buh," he starts, huddling up to try to go to sleep again, "ih's so early..."

"I know, and I apologize for waking you before you've had quite enough sleep; however, I need to make as much progress as possible, and I don't believe it's a good idea to leave you here alone."

He shakes his head in sleepy agreement and, after a somewhat dejected yawn, wobbles to his feet. It's hard to imagine this could be the same nation that's always running around, flirting with every girl in his path, and singing as he makes pasta. But I suppose no one could be cheerful in his situation. He refuses the only logical way of escaping the island, and he doesn't even get reassurance from his best friend. I'd certainly consider Italy my friend, but I just don't get as close, in any respect, as the other nations do. So strange to think he could be so alone when one of his friends is standing right next to him...

"If you'd like breakfast," I start quietly, "we can go back to the strawberry bush."

"Really?" He's still not quite smiling, but he's less depressed. "I'd like that..." I nod, and we go back in that direction. It's not quite as far as I thought; we arrive just after the sun has swum wholly into the sky.

There aren't many suitable berries left, but none of the few seem to have been eaten by any wildlife. Or by other nations. I suppose leaving them food won't attract them that much. I'll just make use of it myself, then.

Italy and I have three more strawberries each. He's a bit more awake now, thankfully. Maybe he won't make as much noise as he did on the way here.

I lead the way back out as the sun burns off the stretched-thin morning mist. The dark clouds have begun to gather, and the thought of fresh water makes my throat feel drier. Just a bit longer. I still have enough in me from the beer and the berries, so I can wait.

After a good deal of walking, I pause. My hand hovers over my sword hilt. Someone else is here. I can't be completely sure where, but they're near. I proceed with caution, checking the trees less quickly and more carefully. I'm a minute into this search when Italy squeaks and hides behind a tree.

"Italy?" I watch him for a moment, and it's easy to tell from his position he's not hiding from me. So...

I follow the line of sight for which the tree would hide him, and I finally see who startled Italy so. I can tell he's still asleep, not only because of his position but also because he hasn't shot us yet.

Silent, I draw closer to Switzerland's hiding place, the lower boughs of a thicker tree. His sister is dreaming a bit further up.

All right. I've found more nations. Good.

I linger beneath their tree, wondering how to go about this. While I'm not sure if there's any safe way to wake him, I know he'll at least listen to what I have to say. Once I ask to kill him, though... Who knows what he would think of that, but I'll certainly get riddled with bullet-holes if I suggest killing Liechtenstein. So the most sensible course of action is to kill her now, and him as well, and tell them what's going on after they come back.

But... Didn't I already decide it was dishonorable to kill my fellow nations without getting their permission? But I know Switzerland won't see sense if a bit of Liechtenstein's life is at stake. Hmm...

I deliberate a bit longer before sighing, warning Italy, and carefully nudging Switzerland awake from an angle I can't be shot. He stirs momentarily before jerking awake, sitting up and getting his gun in firing position. I stay still and silent, certainly not wanting to startle him. He'll find me eventually.

He looks around for a minute, firstly checking on his sister, and then examining the area. It takes him another few moments of this before he finally comes across me.

"Japan?" he starts, shifting in his branch and keeping his gun pointed in my general direction.

"Yes, that's right," I reply, carefully moving to where he can see me more clearly. "I apologize for troubling you, but..."

"Yeah, yeah." He looks over his shoulder, gun still aimed at me. "Anyone else with you?"

I pause, weighing the situation. Italy wouldn't be fond of me giving away his position, but if he sneezes or something, he's less likely to get shot. "Italy's hiding behind a tree somewhere in that direction. I doubt he'll be attacking you any time soon."

He checks but decides I'm the one he should keep an eye on. "So. What do you want?"

As Liechtenstein peeks at me through the leaves, I bow slightly for my request. "First of all, The Rules are real."

"Don't tell me you fell for that!" he responds, frowning. "Crap, Japan, you just always go with whatever people tell you, don't you?"

"No, I assure you I've had proof. I'd rather not relay the whole story, but... We found out whom Germany had to kill. Shortly after Italy's death, he disappeared from the island. I saw him fade with my own eyes."

"Germany killed Italy?" he responds dubiously.

"Once again, I'd rather not relate the whole tale, but we came into a bit of a panic, and... I asked him to do what he did."

"So you fell for them from the start, anyway," he sighs.

"My reactions to them are not of importance. What matters is that The Rules are real, and if we just have everyone kill each other as quickly as possible, we can all be sure we'll come back, and we'll escape."

The click of his gun sends a nearby bird flying for cover. "So you want to kill us."

"You won't be in lasting danger," I start quickly. "The quicker we do this, the more I can guarantee that. If there is something I can do for you in return—"

"Back off." He stares me down unwaveringly.

"Switzerland. I am going to do what I have to," I say, refraining from laying a hand on my katana hilt. "I truly want your cooperation, though. If it's necessary, I can promise not to hurt Liechtenstein after I see if you're the one I need to kill."

I get a moment to breathe before he fires. Thankfully, I duck in time, and only one bullet of the round grazes me. I can already feel the blood starting to stream from my scalp, just missing my ear.

"You don't want to kill me," I warn. "What if I'm the one you have to kill?"

"I don't _have_ to kill anyone," he snarls, trigger finger twitching. "But if you threaten either of us again, I'll do it, anyway. Back off."

I pause. "You haven't shot me to death yet."

"I can change that gladly."

"Are you scared?" He still doesn't quite start firing. "Because if it's all true, which it is... If I'm the one you have to kill... I go down now and come back just fine a day later, but you'll be home. With no way to help your sister, whom everyone will be after once they realize The Rules are real, who will have no way to protect herself, no way to feasibly kill another of us and leave, having to stay here until her immortality wanes..."

"Shut up!" He still hasn't shot me.

"Switzerland. I promise no real harm will come of me doing this. I'll make sure no one will easily see you two before you've recovered. It's the best we can do. So, again, I ask for your permission to disable you two temporarily."

"I'm never agreeing to that," he barks, gun not quite entirely trained on me. I wait a moment, pulse swishing beneath my ears and pounding behind my wound.

In a leaping flash of steel, he goes down. My subsequent apology is drowned by a second round of bullets. Aimed as they are by a dying nation, they miss, and I hop up a set of branches to meet Liechtenstein in the eye. She's tearing up, but she doesn't run.

"I apologize to you as well for killing him. If it's all right with you, may I also ensure you're not the one one I must kill?"

"O-okay," she says, voice quavering, eyes still squeezed shut. "Just... Please make sure no one hurts him until he wakes up."

"I will." She swallows, bracing herself. "Thank you... so much for your cooperation." I bow a bit but realize she can't see it. Only after I cut her down and fail to appear back home does bile start to rise in my throat.

It's okay. She'll be fine. Everyone will be fine as long as I get to them quickly. I have to do this. I don't know what's going on here, but if I let my immortality drain away... What, then, happens to my people? I have no experience like this to compare, and I doubt the others do. If my people's lives are at stake here... It does not matter how brutal I have to be; I must escape. I will do my best to act honorably in doing so, but my first priority is leaving this island the only sure way.

I drop from the tree, flick some of the blood from my katana, and wipe the rest off.

"Italy. It's safe if you'd like to come out." Nothing moves for a minute, but he eventually slips out from behind his tree. Tears are present as always seems to be the case here, and he staggers over toward me fearfully.

"Italy, what's wrong? You've nothing to fear now," I say, carefully leaning back against Switzerland and Liechtenstein's tree as my blood loss starts to make me wobbly.

"They're dead," he chokes out before sniffling loudly.

"Just for now. They'll still come back, I assure you. And when they come back..." I look at Italy, eyes soft. "Italy, I really think it's best that you reconsider not killing anyone. It won't last, and it's the best way for you to get home." He just shakes his head vehemently, just getting out that he can't.

"Italy, this is serious. Your people's lives may be at stake, and it's so simple for you to accomplish. They won't hurt you because you'll be gone, and they won't have to hurt for very long, as long as we do this before the immortality runs out."

He's still shaking his head. "N-no... Japan, I-I can't do any of this! I-I c-can't..." He sniffs. "I can't even..." He looks up at the bloodless Liechtenstein, and his cries come harder. "...e-even watch..." He stands there sobbing for a second before something scares him bolt straight.

"J-Japan! If we r-run into Romano..." He's suddenly clutching my shoulders, crying desperately in my face. "Please don't kill Romano! Please don't kill him!"

"Italy... It's going to be all right..."

He just pulls back, repeating to himself that he just can't do this. "I-I just..." He swallows. "J-Japan. I... I'm going to go find him."

"We'll find him soon—"

"No, not 'we'! If you find him, you'll k-kill him!" He takes a second to catch his breath. "I... I'm going to f-find him on my own..." He takes an unsure step away.

"Italy!" I seize his shoulder, and he dodges away in fear. "It's too dangerous for you to wander out there alone. I promise we'll look hard for him—"

"And then you kill him!" he finishes, hysterical. "I c-can't let you... We'll just keep running... It's n-not safe anywhere, and it's not safe with you, either..." He swallows, shaking hard, and takes another step away from the tree.

"Italy, please, just hold on until you're not so shaken—!" Before I've finished, he's off running. I try to go after him, but my head has bled so much I can't do so without falling. Crumpling to my knees, I look after him light-headed. I couldn't catch up with him if I tried, not when he's fleeing... from me...

I fumble to wrap a stretch of clothing around my head wound before I lose consciousness altogether.


	10. I'll Tell You Once More

Author's Note: Ohh, I can't believe all of the reviewers I have! Thanks so much, everyone!

Oh, and if you spot something off, feel free to tell me. Even if it's just a typo or grammar glitch, since those seem to be popping up in this one a bit more than in my others for some odd reason...

Feel free to say deja vu if you feel the need. And/or review. I'd prefer the latter myself.

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><p><em>Switzerland<em>

I'm planning on making tonight's stay a bit better than the first night's. We managed not to fall out of the tree we picked, but perching and sprawling out on a bunch of knobby, jagged tree branches did not do well for my back. Liechtenstein said she wasn't too sore, but it's hard to tell since she doesn't tend to complain. She prefers to turn it around somehow so she can end up thanking me. Not that I mind. I don't need much flattering myself, but it's nice to have someone be grateful instead of just chuckling because he knows I'm obligated to drag his rear back home after the next battle he loses, and the next one, and the next one, and I have much better things to think about than him right now.

Before I get to making anything more comfortable, though, I need something to eat. We didn't find much yesterday, but it's only a minute today before I nab a pair of birds with my rifle. I figured it may have been a bit of overkill to bring this along with my submachine gun, but I'm sure glad I did now. I much prefer these for shooting game, thanks. Though I'm sure I could get them as easily with Urs, but I'd better save its bullets for shooting the other nations as usual.

And I'm definitely going to have to shoot at them some. More than usual, because I'm sure some of them have fallen for The Rules. It's obviously a hoax. We're probably on television or something. Which means we've all been found out as nations, and we'll probably have to go and change our appearances or something for a while... Hmph. I hope not. I don't know what screwed-up person tacked that note to that tree, but I'm not falling for it. This is just some regular old island, and someone's going to come by in a plane or something and get us out. We just have to light fires or write "SOS" on the beach somewhere or something. But I'll leave most of that to the others. I'll just take care of Liechtenstein and myself until help arrives.

By the time I've scraped all of the skin and feathers off with my army knife, Liechtenstein has set up firewood, though I never asked her to. She catches my eye, waiting hopefully for my approval.

"Yeah, that looks great. You can go ahead and try to start it if you want. Just don't give yourself any splinters. Or use any wood that looks too sharp. Uh... Just hang on, I'll get it once I'm done here." I hurry and get as many little strips of meat off these and onto a large, damp leaf as I can. Then I cut a little hole in one of the pieces of wood and start spinning another twig against it. It takes some hand-chafing and a few false starts, but I eventually get the pile lit. I wrap up the meat in its leaf and let it start cooking.

"Um..." Liechtenstein interlaces her fingers. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"No, that's it until they're done." I sigh. "Don't worry about it, okay? I really don't mind doing the work myself." She just nods silently and gazes into the fire.

The meat's ready in a little while, and I carefully remove the packet and set the meal between us. This isn't going to taste too nice, but food is food. And hey, it's technically free.

We go through it pretty quickly, completing the breakfast with conservative sips from what little remains in the water bottles we brought to the meeting. I wish I had known we'd get hijacked and thrown into a forest beforehand so I could be prepared. But some water's better than none, and we'll find another source soon enough. We should probably do that today, after we're sure we have our shelter ready.

I tell Liechtenstein our plans for the day, and we immediately get to gathering material for nests. Some more flexible branches, a couple of vines, a good few handfuls of Spanish moss that she scuttles up some trees to amass. We go ahead and step back to the same tree, since it did well enough last night in keeping us away from the nations and other pests. I get up in the branches and have her hand the things up to me. I'm not much of an expert on this anymore, but I get two decent-looking nests finished by the time I'm unable to keep myself from another sip or two of water.

I check my watch. 11:07. The sun says it's noon. Hmph. I'd rather trust the watch.

"It's almost lunchtime," I say as I hop down from the tree's lower boughs. "We'll be out looking for water now, but keep an eye out for food, too."

"All right."

We start poking around, making sure not to lose track of how to get back to our tree. We only succeed in finding more wildlife, which I refrain from shooting. We're not completely out of water, but saying that is kind of a joke since we pretty much have one sip left each. I figured we'd have to find some by now, or I wouldn't have asked her to look for food, but it doesn't look like we'll be eating just yet.

It's 2:30 by the time we finally find a small pond that's not entirely mud. We don't have a great method to filter it since our only containers are thin plastic bottles, but we probably won't get too sick. I just run some of the water through my jacket, since I'm not exactly having to use it right now. Liechtenstein and I drink as much of the drip-down as we dare, and then we fill up our bottles and start back. Now that we're actually somewhat hydrated, I'm fine with going ahead and eating. Unfortunately, the game doesn't seem to feel the same way. Nothing crosses us as we start back for our tree, and Verena is left unfired.

At one point, Liechtenstein steps off our path to check out a rotting fallen log. "There are some big grubs in here," she announces, reaching for one.

"Ah, hang on," I start, catching her arm. "We're not that desperate yet. If we don't find anything by the time we're back at our tree, we can come back here, okay?"

"All right," she responds quietly before smiling at me. "You know best, after all."

"Yeah. Let's get back to our resting spot."

We get back to walking, and I finally shoot down another bird. By the time we're back at our tree, I'm carrying three of them. We may have missed lunch, but we'll have a decent supper with something to wash it down.

I wonder if it would be better for us to move camp closer to the pond. It'd certainly be more convenient getting something to drink, but that pond didn't look like it was going to hold out long, it wouldn't be very easy to move our nests or build new ones, and it's just too late today. We'll think about it tomorrow morning. For now, we'll eat and climb up to rest.

The meal goes by a bit quicker than breakfast since we skipped a meal, but we end up somewhat satiated. At least, I do. I carefully made sure she'd get the larger share, so she should be, too. I'm not too worried. She may not complain, but she'll tell me if she gets too hungry.

I put the fire out as the sun starts to set, and we both head up to our nests. I position myself, keeping Urs ready to fire, and watch the surroundings as the sky goes dark.

"Um..." In response, I turn to look at Liechtenstein. "Good night, brother," she finishes.

I nod. "Night."

She curls up and closes her eyes, and I watch her for another second before looking back out over the potential danger surrounding us. I stay on watch as long as I can before I end up falling asleep.

* * *

><p>I'm woken up by something pushing at my elbow. After taking a moment to register that I fell asleep in the first place, I wrench myself awake with a start. I'm in a position ready to fire before the blur has gone from my eyes. Nothing seems to be around, and Liechtenstein's not hurt or even awake. I blink a few times, taking a good look around, before I finally spot another nation at an angle behind me.<p>

"Japan?" I adjust so I can shoot him, though I don't just yet. I hate, hate, hate having such a limited amount of ammo like this, but at least someone I only slightly distrust is the first to catch me off-guard.

"Yes, that's right," he replies, stepping out of the shadow. "I apologize for troubling you, but..."

"Yeah, yeah," I respond. The guy has no idea how to state his opinion without hiding it behind tons of formality. Of course, he might be trying to distract me...

I look over my shoulder, not moving my gun. "Anyone else with you?"

He hesitates before answering, "Italy's hiding behind a tree somewhere in that direction." He motions a bit to my left. "I doubt he'll be attacking you any time soon." I'm sure he wouldn't, but I check the spot just to make sure it's not someone else. The rest of him may be hidden, but Italy's haircurl is sticking out from behind the tree.

Also noting that Liechtenstein has woken up, I turn back to Japan. Before he can start with more ambiguous language, I cut to the chase for him. "So. What do you want?"

"First of all," he says, bowing his head a bit, "The Rules are real."

"Don't tell me you fell for that!" Is everyone on this island seriously as crazy as he acts? "Crap, Japan, you just always go with whatever people tell you, don't you?"

"No, I assure you I've had proof. I'd rather not relay the whole story, but... We found out whom Germany had to kill. Shortly after Italy's death, he disappeared from the island. I saw him fade with my own eyes."

...Fade?

No, no. I am not falling for this. It is kind of weird for Japan and Italy to be travelling together without Germany, but he's probably just waiting for the right opportunity or something. And the story doesn't even sound quite right. "Germany killed Italy?"

"Once again, I'd rather not relate the whole tale, but we came into a bit of a panic, and..." Oh, quit blathering. "I asked him to do what he did." Still doesn't make so much sense, but what do I know? I thought Germany was smart enough not to jump at this, but Japan can be pretty manipulative when he wants to be. Which is pretty much never since he can't make up his mind about anything, but hey.

"So you fell for them from the start, anyway," I sigh, disappointed. I should know by now no matter how many times I tell him to man up and make his own opinion, it's not going to happen.

"My reactions to them are not of importance. What matters is that The Rules are real, and if we just have everyone kill each other as quickly as possible, we can all be sure we'll come back, and we'll escape." I would have shot him at the word "kill" if I didn't figure I could talk him out of this. I instead put on and re-remove the safety, just for the sake of making a threatening click. It doesn't chase anything away but a bird.

"So you want to kill us," I say, narrowing my eyes.

"You won't be in lasting danger. The quicker we do this, the more I can guarantee that." I think he's actually pretty convinced about this. "If there is something I can do for you in return—"

"Back off," I try one last time.

"Switzerland. I am going to do what I have to. I truly want your cooperation, though. If it's necessary, I can promise not to hurt Liechtenstein after I see if you're the one I need to kill."

I fire. Somehow he manages to dodge, and only one bullet isn't completely wasted, though the wound doesn't look lethal. Great. This is going to be troublesome. Stupid freaking ninja...

"You don't want to kill me," he says, still not attacking, thankfully enough. "What if I'm the one you have to kill?"

"I don't _have_ to kill anyone." I don't. It's all a joke, a scam, some stupid idea of some stupid person with too much time on their hands. The Rules don't make sense, and nobody, especially not Liechtenstein, is going to die for real in this place! "But if you threaten either of us again, I'll do it, anyway. Back off."

He pauses, thinking this out. "You haven't shot me to death yet."

"I can change that gladly," I snap. He really is an idiot if he's tempting me with this. I probably shouldn't shoot him, just in case he's the one—

Which he's not because it's all bullcrap!

"Are you scared?" he goes on quietly. "Because if it's all true, which it is... If I'm the one you have to kill... I go down now and come back just fine a day later, but you'll be home. With no way to help your sister, whom everyone will be after once they realize The Rules are real, who will have no way to protect herself, no way to feasibly kill another of us and leave, having to stay here until her immortality wanes..."

Somehow the image presents itself all too clearly. Liechtenstein, hiding quaveringly in this tree alone, ducking behind branches as others pass, not always successful in going undetected... Falling to the ground dead, waking up, hurrying to get back, wondering if she should go out to risk food... Being caught again, falling down dead... Not coming back up...

"Shut up!" What am I thinking? It's not going to happen!

"Switzerland. I promise no real harm will come of me doing this. I'll make sure no one will easily see you two before you've recovered. It's the best we can do. So, again, I ask for your permission to disable you two temporarily."

"I'm never agreeing to that," I bark, still unable to dispel the image he described. I can't recover before his sword is suddenly in my neck. Feeling my hand start to slip from Urs, I manage to fire, but I'm too far gone and falling too much to score a hit. I crash to the ground, just noting that somehow nothing on me went off before it all goes black.

* * *

><p>I feel the rain falling on me before I open my eyes. Nothing makes any sort of sense for a few moments, but then my brain starts to catch up with me. I bolt upright, though it makes me a little bit dizzy, and scramble up the tree's first few branches to get a glimpse of Liechtenstein. Her eyes open as I approach. She looks at me blankly before sitting up and shivering.<p>

"You all right?" I start, just now registering the thin cut on the side of her neck and the traces of blood that stained her dress before the rain could wash it off.

"Mmm-hmm," she responds shakily, still gripping her arms. I only get concerned when a moment goes by without her asking if I'm okay.

"What's wrong?" I start, shuffling in closer to her.

"Um, nothing..." She looks down, knowing I'm not convinced. "I'm all right. That's just... That was just the first time I've died like that... I've died of hunger once, but..." She rubs at the cut. "This was scarier..."

"It's okay." I grab her shoulder. "It's not going to happen again. No one else is going to kill you. No one else is going to _touch_ you!" Some thoughts connect, and I look down. Japan is at the base of the tree, unconscious. Without a word, I hop down.

There's a ton of blood from his wound, but he's still breathing. I wonder if he died or not.

Glad to see the tree kept it dry while I was out, I get out Verena. But really, he's not worth another bullet. I make absolutely sure it won't fire, grab the barrel, and slam the handle into his skull.

That oughtta do it.

"Liechten." I climb up a bit and set my guns down in my nest. "Set the bottles out so we can get as much water as possible. I'll be right back."

I drag Japan out as far as I dare, kick his head for good measure, and hurry back to Liechtenstein.

This crap is not going to happen again. Screw The Rules. I'm not going to be that gullible. I'm shooting everyone that crosses our path, no ifs, ands, or buts. When I run out of ammo, I'll just beat them myself. No one's doing that to Liechtenstein again. No one.


	11. Cover Me

Author's Note: Sorry for the wait! I couldn't quite decide whether I was going to do this POV now or put it off another chapter, and then just when I finally decided, I couldn't log in to write for a day and then some. But here it is!

Apologies for swearing. I'm trying to keep some of these blokes somewhat in-character pertaining to that. Just be warned that I prefer "harsh" swearing over blasphemous swearing.

Oh, and congrats to anyone who noticed all of the chapter titles were titles/random snippets of lyrics from songs. And no, I totally didn't go look up Bruce "The Boss" Springsteen songs for this chapter. You silly people, you.

Please review! I do love them so.

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><p><em>Spain<em>

The rain is still thrashing at the trees when what little light we had this afternoon fades away. Romano found a big enough tree for shelter, but I'm still wandering around in the downpour. How could I not? After having nothing to drink for so long, and baking in the heat the whole time, this is just too great to pass up. I mean, sure, it's been raining for hours, but still!

Of course, Romano's huddled up in a tiny dry spot underneath his tree, just grumbling away. I wish the guy would see the bright side of things every once in a while, you know? It's not insanely hot, and we're going to have plenty of water now. I caught a lot of it in the little basket I made from some vines when Romano was yelling at me for not looking for food. We never did find any food, actually, but that's all right. It's only been three days. Not even that much. We have plenty of time before we starve; we'll find something before then.

I let the rain drum down on me for a while longer before deciding I'm getting a little cold. Walking—and slipping a little, since the ground's all mud and puddles by now—back to Romano's tree, I find another dry spot and shake my head some so my hair isn't so dripping wet. Romano instantly swears, and I realize I must have splattered him a little.

"Watch it! I'm trying _not _to get sopping wet, bastard!"

"Oi, sorry, sorry," I laugh, leaning back against the trunk. He just mutters something else under his breath and curls back into a ball, going silent again.

"You're still feeling all right, aren't you, Romano?"

"As all right as I can be after three whole days without food!" he snaps. "Since you're so fine with going out in the rain, how about you go out and find some already?"

"It'll be hard to get around now that the ground's so slick," I reply, wringing some more water out of my pant legs. "And I'm pretty tired, anyway. But don't worry about it, all right? I'll find something tomorrow."

"You said that yesterday _and _the day before."

"Well, hopefully I won't have to say it tomorrow!"

"Bastard." He shuffles closer against the tree. "I'm going to sleep."

"That sounds like a good idea!" I respond, stretching my arms out and sliding down against the trunk.

"You can't go to sleep, too, idiot!" he protests. "You have to stay on watch or we'll get killed by whoever walks by!"

I shrug. "So what? We'll come right back."

"We don't know that, dammit! With those stupid rules..." He looks away. "And I don't like dying, anyway..."

"Aw, you're scared? Well, why didn't you say so earlier? Don't worry," I say, grinning, "nobody's going to get to you while I'm around."

"They'd better not," he grumbles tiredly, pulling his jacket-blanket up to his chin and closing his eyes. I watch him for a second before looking out into the night. I don't think I'll be keeping the best watch. It's so dark I won't be able to see anyone, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to fall asleep, anyway. But I'm pretty optimistic as to not being found. The others aren't going to get around that easily, with the ground like this and absolutely no way to see. But I'll stay up, at least until Romano falls asleep, so he won't be so afraid.

I keep myself awake, listening to the raindrops slow their pace, until Romano's chest is moving in and out calmly. Then I follow suit.

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><p>By morning, the rain has stopped. A few drops are still falling from leaves, but I can't hear them splash over Romano cussing me out for falling asleep.<p>

"Hey, relax, no one got us," I respond, but this does little to soothe him. The only way I can get him to calm down a bit is by suggesting we go look for food again.

So we get to walking, though the ground and tree weren't very good mattresses and we're still pretty exhausted. But it's okay. We're sure to find something today.

I'm inspecting some bushes hopefully when Romano is attacked. He's tackled so fast I have no chance to react until the two are on the ground scuffling. Or, maybe not quite scuffling...

"You're okay!" the attacker wails, trying to throw his arms around the other though it's not quite possible when they're both on the ground.

"Not any more!" Romano responds, picking himself up and trying to get some of the mud off him. "Why did you have to fucking tackle me like that?" After realizing the mud's not coming off, he swears again and begrudgingly holds out a hand to help his brother up. "But... Kind of nice to know you're still okay. Not that I was worried or anything."

Italy smiles at him tearfully before being helped up.

"Yeah, good to see you, Italy!" I say, taking my hands out of the bush and turning so we can talk. I look over his shoulder, but there's no one else in sight. "You here by yourself?" He nods, and I laugh. "What, Germany trying to make you run laps or something?"

He shakes his head and looks down. "I-I'm not sure where Germany is..."

"What do you mean? What happened?" Romano demands, words quick. For a second I wonder why he would be so concerned about Germany, but then I realize he probably just wants more clues about how he's going to fare in all of this.

"A-ah! I, uh, he..." Italy's eyes start watering up more. "I d-don't really... A-and then Japan..." He trails off into whimpering and casts a glance behind him in a sudden panic. He just looks so unsure and frightened I have to go over and hug him.

"Everything's okay, Italy! I don't know what happened, but nobody's going to hurt you now."

"Get your hands off my brother, you bastard!" Romano immediately responds, showering me with blows. I pull back, holding my arms up to defend myself.

"You're too fucking huggy!"

"He just looked like he needed a hug! Ow, calm down!"

He throws a few more punches before deciding I'm not worth any more of his effort. Lowering my defenses, I check back on Italy. He's still quivering a little, but I think he's calmed down a little bit.

"Really... What happened, though?" I start, leaning back against a trunk and motioning for Italy to do the same. He checks behind him again, but near-collapses against the tree behind him. He really doesn't look very good. Everything he's wearing is scratched up, even ripped open in some places, and he's halfway covered in mud from the recent tackle and probably some stumbling earlier. His face is a little bit dirty, but the trails beneath his eyes are impeccably clean. The poor kid's probably been crying nonstop. Although he does do that sometimes, anyway...

"U-um..." He sniffles a few more times and starts his story as the day warms back up from the rain. I have to take my jacket back off by the time he wraps up.

"...and so I've been running around looking for you all night... I almost ran into Russia, but I managed to run away without slipping. And then after I slowed down a little and started looking again, I finally found you." He smiles at his brother. "And I'm so glad you're okay, because I've been so scared..."

"But they both came back, right?" Romano starts. "So you shouldn't have to worry so much. I can take care of myself."

I laugh, throwing an arm over Romano's shoulders. "Well, at least Boss Spain can take care of him!"

I probably should have expected the flipping and swearing that comes next.

"You haven't been doing _anything_! I don't need you to take care of me!"

I pull myself back to my feet with a grin. "Then why did you follow me?"

"W-we were just going in the same direction!"

"Oh, you're so funny, Romano!" I laugh, though I refrain from physical contact this time.

"Go die!" He shoves me anyway. I slip up a little, but thankfully there's still a tree right behind me to stop me.

Oh, Romano... So violent for someone who can't fight to save his life...

I straighten myself up, mud squelching under my feet as I regain them. Italy reprimands—if you could call his sort of whimpering reprimanding—his brother for being so mean to me, and Romano just scowls and tells him I deserve it. I'm about to ask him why he thinks that when I see the silhouette behind him.

"Romano—!"

He notices a split second after me, but I'm already throwing myself between the two. There's just enough time for a light giggle to greet me before the pipe comes crashing down on my skull.

The force brings me to the ground, but I force myself back up quickly. Romano doesn't want to die, so he's not going to die. Neither of them is. And since I know we're still coming back, well, this might be kind of fun.

"Someone got in the way!" Russia says, not sounding particularly disappointed. He hurries to sidestep me, but I keep myself in front of him.

"Oh, please move. I just want to make sure they can't run off before we get to have our fun!"

"Too bad, you're not touching them. Don't think I'm a good enough fight for you?"

He laughs. "I guess we'll have to see!"

He swings his weapon again, and I dodge, turning around. The Italies are nowhere in sight. What, they don't trust me to take care of this? Ah, well. I guess they'd run no matter what. It's their specialty.

I whip back around to face Russia, ready to punch, but he brings up his pipe to block. I understandably don't make a dent in the solid metal. All I get for my efforts is a really hurting hand.

Okay, this might be pretty bad. If I just knew this would be happening, I'd have brought a battle-axe or something. Man, this isn't very fair. But that's all right. Romano and Italy got away. All I have to do now is buy them a little more time and fight my best.

Russia brings his pipe around again before I've recovered enough from the last hit. The sharp hit to my ribs doesn't quite break anything, but the pain finally launches my adrenaline into high gear. I get in a good jab to the side of Russia's face, with my left hand now, and knee him one in the stomach before he can recover from that. He does come back eventually, though, and I dodge his next swing.

Phew! I can't remember the last time I fought another nation like this. I don't even really remember what I'm supposed to be doing. If I just had some good old axe or sword, then we'd really be talking. I'm not going to find anything like that here, looks like, but maybe I could improvise?

I don't get to check out the surroundings much before Russia's next attack, but after I get knocked a little off-balance and give him another punch, I get a second. Looks like the only thing even vaguely weapon-like is tree branches. And I don't really have time to wrench any of those off, so not looking too good there.

I'm too distracted to dodge Russia's next hit, instead blocking it with crossed arms. The impact starts my feet sliding in the mud, but I regain my footing in time to duck under the next swipe. I jab again, daring to throw in a hook with my injured hand, before pulling back for a second and wishing I didn't throw in a hook with my injured hand.

"Well," Russia starts, resting his pipe on his shoulder for a moment, "this fight isn't really as fun as I was hoping. I guess I'll just go ahead and kill you." He smiles his dopey grin. "That'll be more interesting."

"We'll just have to see if you can get that far!" I fake a punch with my right hand and easily get around his subsequent block with my other. He brings his pipe back around, and I dodge. Then it's suddenly back at the other side of my head. I don't even have time to react before the weapon comes back around hard, busting my head with a _crack_.

The force sends me slamming into a tree. My feet are sliding away in the mud, and I've already slid into a seated position by the time I start to get my wits about me. Not that that helps much, when my head's screaming so much I can't focus enough to stand. And Russia seems to be taking advantage of the blind spot from the quick flow of blood running over my right eye.

Well, things seem to have taken a bit of a turn for the worst. If I just had a weapon... But the only real weapon around is the one that just split my head open.

I struggle back to my feet, apparently at just the right time since the end of a pipe flies in front of my neck. I hesitate a second, then before Russia can pull it back in towards him, grab the pipe. I try to wrench it from him, but his grip is far too strong. He kicks me hard in the stomach, which sends him slipping backwards but succeeds in getting my hand off his weapon.

I straighten myself back out, daring to take a step away from the tree, though I'm getting woozy from blood loss. Russia recovers from sliding around too quickly and comes to meet me with another strike. I dodge, but I'm too beaten up to keep myself from sliding back down to the ground. Before I can recover, he brings his pipe straight down to my ribs. This time I'm not completely sure nothing snaps.

He could have finished me right then if he wanted to. I guess I'm as good as dead to him now, with this head injury. He's just having his fun. But I'm not dead just yet.

I squirm out of the way of his next strike and prop myself up with one hand. He clips my shoulder, but I go on to stand up, propping myself against a tree trunk. He brings his pipe around again toward my midsection, and I force myself out of the way. Just as the metal scratches the bark, I seize the pipe and a little bit of his hand with my injured hand and the slurry of mud in it. He has to pull his weapon out of my grasp, and I can just see his muddied hand slide a little bit. With a shout, I grab the other end of the pipe with my cleaner hand and, after a frozen moment, wrench it out of his grasp.

He lunges for his weapon, but I get it out of reach and, before he can react, clasp both hands around it and crack it down on his skull as hard as I can manage. He collapses to the ground, but so do I; the momentum's just too much for me at this point. I slide to a stop against some other tree. Russia still hasn't budged. I think I knocked him out. Ha! Does that mean I won the fight after all?

I close my eyes for a second. Man, I'm losing a lot of blood... Probably not much longer for me now.

"Spain!"

...What? I open my eyes, bewildered, as footsteps approach. It's a minute before the Italies are standing over me.

"What are you guys doing back here?" I start, voice already going.

"We saw the f-fight was over, and we w-wanted to make sure you were okay," Italy starts as the two prop me up against a trunk.

"_He _wanted to make sure," Romano corrects hastily.

Huh... Saw it was over? How close were you guys? I figured you were halfway around the island by now...

I just see a quivering Italy start to rip a strip off one of his white flags before my vision starts to dance away. It takes me a minute to figure out he's trying to make bandages.

"No, don't bother with me. I'm done for, for now," I mumble. "Just get out of here. I'm pretty sure Russia's not actually dead, just... KO'ed. Get away while you can. I'll..." My throat is running so dry I have to struggle to get the rest out. "...c-catch up... 'Kay?"

But I can still feel them near, can't hear them retreating. What are you staying for? Russia probably looks pretty out of comission, but you guys tend to run at anything... Sure, he might kill me again if he wakes up before I can get away, but... that's no big deal... Why aren't you running?

Ha. Are you really... that worried about me? You like me that much after all?

I feel hands lifting me up before all my senses go blank.


	12. Let the Good Times Roll

Author's Note: I'll be kicking out a lot of verbal tics from the POV's, if only so I don't have to split my head open on the desk after writing some 500 "like"s or "aru"s in a chapter. I don't think you mind that much, do you?

Well, if you do, you could always review and tell me. And if you don't, you can review and tell me. And if you think my calls for reviews are getting dumber by the chapter, you can review and tell me that, too.

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><p><em>Poland<em>

It's been a whole day since Lithuania came back, but I still haven't been able to convince him that Belarus killed him. Which means I also can't explain to him how I know The Rules are real. How I know he was the one Belarus had to kill.

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><p><em>The slash opens up across Lithuania's throat before I can get him out of the way. He staggers dazedly for a second before collapsing to the ground. Belarus is watching him, too, not out of concern but out of spite, so I have enough time to recover from the jolt before she flings the knife she just used at me.<em>

_I duck out of the way, but she's already starting to withdraw another from her dress jacket._

_"Like, no, you don't!" I lunge, she twists out of the way, and I have to grab her collar and tug it away from her for her to lose her grip. She stumbles a bit as her jacket slides off into my hands, and then suddenly she's narrowing her eyes at me. Not the usual hate, but confused squinting. And then I get to squinting, too, because I swear she's starting to look transparent..._

_She takes a dazed step forward before I can barely tell her apart from the rest of the forest, and then she's gone. I take a minute to gawk before remembering I should probably check on Lithuania._

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><p>So, Belarus gone right after Lithuania died, combined with what that paper said... It's totally obvious The Rules have to be true. But Lithuania will <em>not <em>believe Belarus could have possibly brought herself to hurt him, so, well, I can't really convince him.

At least he's here to try to convince, though, you know? Once I knew a part of The Rules were right, I remembered something about immortality, like, not being the same or something, so I ended up freaking out and deciding I needed to go see what that actually was. So I started back for the shore and stuff, Lithuania over my shoulders, and got lost for a little bit once I found the ocean. And I got tired, too, so I figured we'd just rest up there for a while, and maybe I'd ask him where The Rules were once he woke up. If he woke up...

But he did wake up later that evening, thank God, so... Well, we've come and gone from The Rules, even though he's not at all convinced he ever died in the first place. So, it's "Enjoy your immortality while it lasts." So... Yeah. I don't know. I bet Lithuania could figure everything out, but he refuses to believe he needs to.

So, he decided we should get back to looking for food and/or America, and probably some way to keep more water since we'll have to start stocking up for our boat trip. Which we shouldn't even be making anymore, since we know The Rules work. But Lithuania knows best. Except when he doesn't. Which is now. Uh...

Well, I can't convince him, anyway. And maybe we'll run into the nations we need to kill, and everything'll work out. I mean, we totally don't have to worry much about defending ourselves anymore, since I ended up with Belarus's knife-y jacket. There are, like, nine in here, and I'm not even sure I've got to them all yet. We'll need them if we're going to be doing any actual killing, so... Yeah. Pretty rad.

So we're just making our way through the trees, looking around and stuff. It's getting darker, and we'd totally be finishing up our shelter right now if it wasn't still raining. But it is, so we're not. We're just staying under cover of the trees, even though water's still dripping down on us a little, and looking for stuff. Lithuania's leading the way, every once in a while pointing out seriously slippery spots of mud so I don't trip, and checking whatever bushes he feels like for berries and stuff. I'm walking along behind him, checking one of the trees with weird leaves for fruit or anything, when I bump into him.

"Sorry." I take another second examining the tree before I realize he's stopped in front of me. "You, like, okay?" I look over to see him staring a little bit in front of him, and I follow his line of sight.

Japan is on the ground, eyes closed, head dented, in a dragged-around pool of blood. He looks like he's been dead a while, but he's not back to breathing yet.

"I-I think we need to get out of here," Lithuania starts, checking the trees around us quickly, just in case whatever did this is still around.

"Yeah, probs," I respond, taking a step back. Lithuania checks the trees one more time before leading us off at a quicker pace.

How long had Japan been dead...? The ground underneath him was almost totally dry, so... Almost as long as it's been raining, which is, like... a while... I know that head wound looked pretty grody, but it wasn't really that bad. Unless it already started healing, but that doesn't usually happen until we're at least breathing and stuff again. And it's been hours; he should definitely be back to breathing...

...Unless... our immortality... has already run out...

...

Pfft, no, I'm just over-thinking things. Ha, I'm trying to take over Lithuania's job! Better not do that. He can worry about all of the big stuff; I'm better at making things fun.

So, our treehouses, right? It'd be a pain to make one for everybody, so until we get bored, we'll probably just make, like, ten, so everybody can have a roommate. Obviously, I'll be rooming with Lithuania, and then I guess everybody else can figure out their stuff. But it's not all that important, anyway, since we'll have all our bridges and vines and stuff so we can visit everybody else whenever we want. I'll probably hang out with Hungary some. But I'm not hanging out with Russia or Germany or... Well, Prussia's not here, so I don't have to worry about him cramping my style or anything, so that's cool.

Hmm... But we'll definitely need more houses than just for our beds and stuff. We should have a big kitchen, which probably shouldn't be made of wood, especially if we don't have someone making sure England can't get to it. So we'll make that out of, uh, something else. Lithuania can figure that one out. And then we'll need, like, a party room, or rooms. Nah, just one room. We can get along when we're having fun. Or when we're really drunk. But I don't think there's any alcohol here—bummer—so we'll just have to have extra fun to make up for it. I guess I'll have to be in charge of party games, then. Hmm, what should we play?

My planning is interrupted.

"I think we should stop for the night," Lithuania says, coming to a stop and leaning against a tree.

"Okay! I'm, like, getting kind of tired, too. Where are we going to sleep?"

"Somewhere," he says tiredly. "Not a good idea to be out in the open, especially with Russia and whatever killed Japan out there... Let's hide in a bush or something, I don't know." He sighs, squinting in the darkness to scrutinize our surroundings. "I was hoping we'd have found America by now, but this island's bigger than I thought it was."

"No problem! We'll just have to, like, find him tomorrow, then."

"Yeah." He gets through some more of the woods before announcing he thinks this bush should be big enough to hide the two of us. He starts burrowing in carefully, making sure no critters got the same idea, and I follow him. We find a good space without stabby branches and settle down. It's all muddy, but there's enough room for both of us, and I can't see a meter in front of me aside from the leaves, so I think we're pretty safe.

"Hey, Lithy," I start, shuffling around to get my arm out of poking range of a leaf, "I totally came up with some more plans for our treehouses."

Lithuania heaves a sigh. "That's great, but I'd really rather sleep, if that's all right."

"Okay, sure, sure. I can, like, tell you in the morning, then. But, like, be warned—I'll probably have even more plans by then!"

"I'm sure you will," he says, tired but not too unhappy. "Good night."

"Night, Lithy!" I close my eyes, pondering what other treehouses we might need.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Poland? It's about time to get up..."<p>

"Ugh..." I roll off my side before realizing I don't really have room to do that. After a bit of slip-shuffling, I get out of the brush, and Lithuania helps me to my feet. We dare to get a little rainwater from some indented leaves, and then we're off. I start telling Lithuania of my new plans for our treehouses, but he just nods absentmindedly. I guess he's not all that much of a morning person. No coffee or anything out here, either, yikes.

"...but we can't, like, make the kitchen out of wood, too, or—"

"Lithuania!"

Lithuania gives a start before finding the one who called his name. Of course, Latvia's kind of hard to miss when he's sliding on the mud, flailing at every branch so he doesn't fall over head-first. And then Estonia's behind him, taking more cautious steps.

"Ah!" Lithuania begins, catching Latvia just before the latter loses his footing altogether.

"Thanks." Latvia carefully puts weight back on his slippery shoes as Estonia closes the gap between us.

"Good to see you all right," Estonia says. "Well, you look all right, at least."

"Yeah, we're doing fine," Lithuania replies. "I mean, aside from not finding food and everything."

"That, and he got killed by, like, Belarus already, but you know," I respond. Lithuania gives me a look.

"B-Belarus?" Latvia throws a few looks over his shoulders. "Sh-she's not still around here, is she?" His face goes pale. "A-and what about Russia? I-if Belarus is around..."

"No, no one's here but us," Lithuania says. "And Belarus did _not _kill me. Poland's just spreading rumors for no reason again."

"That is, like, not a fun rumor to spread, Lithy. If I was going to, like, spread rumors again, it would probably just, like, be that whole huge party at your house thing again." This gets a sigh from him.

"No, I'm, like, being serious." I look back at the other Baltics. "You, like, know how he gets around Belarus."

"Yeah," Estonia sighs, shifting his briefcase to his other hand. "So, you've been killed by Belarus, and we've been killed by Russia. That's the worst of it so far, thankfully."

"Russia?" Latvia echoes faintly. Estonia looks at him quizzically, and he jumps a bit. "E-er, right, Russia! I-I just wasn't paying that much attention, so I g-guess I forgot, haha..."

"Ouhh-kay," I start. "Anyway. Belarus didn't, like, get to kill me, because she kinda disappeared from the island before she got the chance."

Starting to slump down against a trunk, Lithuania mumbles for me to quit fibbing, but the others don't pay him much attention. Why would they when I just dropped a total bombshell?

"Disappeared, you said?" Estonia starts.

"A-yup. Just, like, totally faded from my view. And it was, like, after she killed Lithy, so I'm betting he was the one she had to, like, kill to go home and stuff."

"Yeah?" Estonia bites the inside of his cheeck.

"S-so... The Rules are d-definitely real, then?" Latvia says, looking up at us with worried eyes.

"That's, like, what it looks like."

"No, it isn't!" Lithuania jumps in, exasperated. "We have no proof of that, okay? Just because Poland says so? Not when it includes something as outlandish as Belarus killing me!" He rubs his forehead. "It doesn't make sense! None of this makes sense." He exhales hard.

"Lithuania." Estonia waits until Lithuania meets his gaze. "If Belarus didn't kill you, what did happen?"

"I don't know," he mutters, closing his eyes again. "I can't remember it all that well. Maybe she kissed me and I passed out?"

"Hate to, like, burst your bubble, but she was _not _making kissy faces at you. Like, she was throwing knives."

"That was only because you were attacking her!"

"Like, come on, Lithy. Do you really think I'd just, like, attack her for no reason? Especially not now, since I, like, got my nails done for the meeting. I'm not chipping this fabulous varnish if I, like, don't have to."

Lithuania, sliding a little too far down the side of the tree, rights himself. "Maybe you thought she was attacking, but..."

"You do have a cut on your cheek," Estonia offers.

Lithuania reaches up to dab the mending wound. "This? Oh, that's not from her. I just got scratched by a tree or something earlier."

"Like, no, you didn't!"

"It doesn't look like a scratch from nature," Estonia says, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "And Lithuania... Why would we all be trying to convince you of this if it wasn't true? Is there really any other reason we'd be doing this?"

"To convince me The Rules are true?" Lithuania offers.

"And why would we want to do that?" Estonia cracks a smile. "Honestly, I'd much prefer them to be false, myself."

Lithuania closes his eyes again, grimacing. "Yeah... I don't know." He shakes his head. "Maybe. Maybe you're telling the truth. But why would she do that?"

"Maybe she wants to go home, too," Latvia joins in tentatively.

"I think we all do," Estonia agrees rather quickly. "I suppose we all know how to now, but..."

"But what?" I respond, flaunting Belarus's jacket. "We totally have enough knives to, like, do whatever we want. It'll be a pretty pink piece of cake getting out of here!"

"We'll see," Lithuania says wearily. It looks like it'll be a while yet before we can convince him. But that's okay. We have some time.

"So hey!" I start. "I, like, haven't gotten to tell you guys about the treehouses we're, like, going to make while we're out here..."


	13. The Lunatic is on the Grass

Author's Note: I know the timeline gets kind of confusing with all of the POV switches, so I'm going to list our major events in order. I may end up doing this every oh-so-many chapters; we'll see.

On the first day, Hungary was killed, Germany and Italy were killed, and Estonia and Latvia were killed. Either near midnight or after, Japan was killed, and Germany went home.

On the second day, Belarus was killed, Lithuania was killed, and Belarus went home.

On the third day, Switzerland and Liechtenstein were killed, it rained, and Japan was killed.

The only death on the fourth day so far was Spain's. And a bit after that is where we come in now.

Thanks for the reviews, everyone! I can't believe how I have so many at just twelve chapters, even if the numbers have been dropping recently. Keep it up, ne? (The reviewing, not the dropping numbers.)

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><p><em>Russia<em>

I come to fuzzy-headed lying facedown in the mud. My head's still throbbing, but otherwise it doesn't look like I took too much damage.

What a hit that was, though! Knocked me out cold. I'll have to pay him back, of course~. He can't have died, because he's gone, and the—I check my watch—fifteen minutes or so I've been out would hardly be enough to get him back going again. And I'm thinking he wouldn't mind another battle, anyway, since he left my pipe here. So nice of him! Or forgetful. I can't be sure. If he were properly afraid of me, then he'd never leave a weapon for me, but he's awfully empty-headed sometimes. I just hope he's having as much fun as me with this.

Except I really haven't had the chance for much fun so far. Hungary's the only one I've killed, and that was mostly just beating her monotonously. After I finished there, everyone was gone, though. I forgot how fast some of us can run, haha! But I haven't been very lucky in tracking them down. Chasing Italy around for a little while was kind of exciting, especially when I lost track. He's a really quick little guy, but he can't run forever! I just kept going in the same direction, and that's when I caught up with him and his brother and Spain.

But that's about all of the fighting I've done so far. I didn't realize the island was so huge! I've pretty much just been looking around and eating and sleeping. Not too much eating, since the only thing I have to trap little animals is my briefcase, and I haven't found any fruit. I really am hungry, even if I don't like to think about it. I figured all of this would just be a fun occasion, but it's not going to be so great if I get too weak from hunger. Maybe I'll really have to figure out how to get home after all. But with The Rules, it looks like that still involves my kind of fun, so it'll be all right!

I push myself to my knees and grab a branch to help me up further.

So, which way did Spain go? I check the mud. The most noticeable aspect, of course, is the scars from our feet sliding around, and a pretty set of splatters of blood. There's a very prominent scraping down of blood on a tree trunk where he must have slid down at some point. The mud itself is full of dainty little spatters and drops, which have begun to turn closer to the color of the ground beneath. It's such a pretty scene, really. If only the blood's owner was here and just as decorated!

Remembering what I'm looking for, I focus back on the marks on the ground. What greets me is not a set of footprints, but two identical ones. Uh, maybe my brain took a little more damage than I thought.

Oh, wait! The Italies were there, so... So there should be three sets? Well, I _thought_ both of the Italies were there. No, of course they were there. I was following Italy this way in the first place, and Romano was the first one I aimed to hit. Huh...

I wrack my brains for a minute and am thoroughly reminded of how much they still hurt. Well... I guess someone's being carried, then, right? Probably Spain, since he was injured. Right! My mind just isn't working all too well right now. I can't blame it much, not after that hit. My head's still pounding, of course, but it's nothing beyond what I'm relatively used to.

So, anyway! There are tracks to follow, and I might as well follow them!

I go after the prints for a while, able to keep track through a few blank patches of grasses and ferns, but soon I run into a stream running crosswise. It's mostly mud and murk but running swiftly, and I feel like it's probably from all of the rain. That wonderful, cold rain~...

I look across to the other bank, but the footprints disappear after that. The water's far from clear enough for me to try looking at the bottom. I've certainly lost my trail here.

Smart move on their part! They could have gone either way. I'd be just as likely to put a lot of distance between us as catch up. They're not usually that sensible in most respects, but when it comes to fleeing, they have to be the best!

Well, I don't think I'll catch up at this point, even if I do choose the right path. I'm kind of tired, and my head still hurts, and I think I'll just come back later. I should go check on my briefcase and see if it's trapped anything.

I'm sort of surprised my briefcase didn't disappear when I had it out of my sight for a while yesterday. My coat's gone, and that was just from hanging it on a tree branch while I watched my makeshift box trap for a while. I dunno. Maybe my briefcase can stick around because it has a little piece of the island, a thick twig, inside it? Although I guess my coat kind of had some of the island in it, too? Oh, it's not that important. I sure didn't need that coat, and I definitely don't mind still having my briefcase! I might try to figure it out later, though, just if I get bored and too tired to look for others to kill. That's been happening some already, I guess. But if I just find a better supply of food, I shouldn't have to worry so much about that any more. Now then, onto the briefcase!

I trot along, the slowly drying mud squishing under my feet. I will myself to focus on the surroundings and keep the same eye out for nations, even though I don't think I'll be finding them soon. It's kind of funny, this place. The trees are pretty spaced out, and their leaves don't block out all of the sunlight, so it would be easy to see anyone else. But I haven't found anyone! It's just sort of hard to get to others here, I guess. I mean, I haven't even been caught by Belarus.

A sudden heavy chill envelopes me, and I look hurriedly over my shoulder, just in case. As far as I can see, she's still not here. She's not one to sneak around when I'm near, anyway. She'd rather start screaming my name the second she sees me, sprint over before I can escape, and start talking about getting married...

Another shiver, another check of the woods around me, and I shake off thought of her. I'll just hope she's all right and not going to find me. That sounds really good to me.

I go a few more steps before getting out my bottle of vodka and taking a good drink. Unfortunately it's just water now, though. It's a big bottle, but I went through all of it long before it started to rain. But at least I still have it. If I had left it in my coat when it disappeared...! That would have been horrible! I'm going through a lot of liquid here. It's just so hot! I've taken off my coat and rolled up my pants legs and loosened my scarf, and I'm still really overheated. Once the sun's at its height, I'll probably have to take my shirt off again. It's nice to be somewhere I'm encouraged to have fun in a nice and violent way, but I do kind of wish it was in a place with a temperature I'm a little more accustomed to.

I'll just have to hope the rest of my stay here will make up for the heat. And I'm sure it will. This island's really weird, and it kind of came out of nowhere, so I definitely know I won't be getting in trouble for anything. It's just one of those nice little vacations where whatever happens there stays there, I think. And with The Rules, some of the others will probably be killing each other, too. I might just have to sit back and watch some of those! They're sure to be interesting. Especially when our immortality starts to run out, and they get desperate! Of course, I'll probably be gone by then. I wonder if I could get someone to record it on a cell phone for me? I bet Lithuania would do it. I'll just have to ask him nicely~.

It's a bit further to my trapping spot, and I'm finally back in a few more minutes.

My case has indeed stuck around through my absence. To my delight, it seems to have fallen closed even without my interference. I sneak up carefully, elated over the sure meal and getting ready to kill whatever might be inside. I flip up the cover. But there's nothing but the twig and the mulch I spread over the lid to disguise it.

I get a moment to ponder this before something hard crashes down on my head.

With a yelp that's oddly more surprised than pained, I lose my balance and teeter to the side. Pulse rising, I hurry back to my feet, pipe ready, but it's not quick enough to block the next strike. Pain jolts me, foremost in my head but also in a few other random spots, but I pounce and swing before I can make out the assailant. I hit something, but I soon make it out as a leg that refuses to buckle. A leg that's buried under several layers of skirt.

"Oh, you came back!" I say, coming up the rest of the way to my feet. Of course it's Hungary and her frying pan! I guess she has to pay me back now. Wonderful thinking, making my trap a trap for me! And I guess it would be easy for someone to know which briefcase is mine, since mine is large and black and suspicious-looking~.

"Oh, and _am _I back," she responds, fixing me with a glare and grin before bringing around her weapon again. I giggle sillily and duck, though the motion sends stinging little tingles down my arms and back. She must have hit me pretty hard!

I swing my pipe at her head as soon as I can manage it, but she deflects it with her pan. It takes me a moment to recover and get my weapon going in the right direction again. By then she's swinging her pan back around. I lean back to dodge, and the metal just clips the tip of my nose. I quickly swing, and she doesn't quite manage to get out of the way. It's still not the best hit I've made, but she staggers to the side a bit, and I bring my pipe back around to hit her on the other side. It's another hit, and she stumbles back more, managing not to slip mostly because there's more ground cover here than just mud.

Tsk! Hit her twice, and there's still so little blood. It's a bit disappointing, but that's okay! The trees and ground will be splattered red yet~!

I advance, but she's ready. She bats at my head, exchanging some strength for speed, and just enough little shivers go down me I'm not quite out of the way for the follow-up. A solid thwack right above my left temple, and now I'm the one reeling.

I'm in quite a bit of pain now, but this is just too much fun for me to be too affected by it. It just seems like it's been so long since I've had the chance to fight like this—besides the bout with Spain a minute ago—and it's just exciting. The fun, the adrenaline, the whatever else... It's easy to push the pain and hunger to the side.

I'm up against a tree trunk before I can recover, and all I can do when the next hit comes is lift my pipe in defense. It absorbs some of the impact, but I can't quite hold my weapon steady enough to catch it all; the pipe gets mashed into my head a little bit, and blood starts trickling down from my forehead.

"My turn!" As her weapon skids off the side of mine, I take a quick step sideways and swing. A clang, and some of her blood flies off the edge of my pipe as it leaves her head. She falters under the momentum and steps on the wrong patch of mud, falling to her side. There's a nice little stream of blood on her now, dripping steadily onto the ground. I step toward her, though more of those little tingling jolts are plaguing me, and raise my weapon for a good, violent blow.

Hungary suddenly grabs my foot and shoves it, and I have a second to start to slip before she pretty well flings me to the ground herself. I land hard, nearly dropping my pipe, and she's able to get to her feet before me.

"My turn," she says sardonically before bringing the frying pan down hard. I'm thoroughly stunned, and I don't make any effort to move out of the way of the second one.

Something crunches, and the world disappears in a jagged flash of light.


	14. Don't Cry

Author's Note: And back to the one with our favorite speech pattern... Beware of some nasty little paragraphs. Really, if it gets too much for you (it'll probably get too much for me, ehe), just stop reading, scroll down, review, and tell me. I'll put a little summary of this chapter in the next chapter's A/N if it's necessary.

Oh, and apologies as well for the use of God's name in vain, of which I do not approve. Not that anyone else tends to care at all anymore, but... There's your warning.

So, read if you can, review if you can, and also review if you can't! I love any reviews I get, and I would much appreciate it.

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><p><em>Romano<em>

"_What the fuck are you doing in there?_"

Italy watches helplessly as I continue to try to smack some sense back into the limp Spain.

"R-Romano, I don't think it's working," says my little brother, rubbing underneath his nose.

"Shut up!" I snap immediately before turning my attention back to the still-dead nation slumped awkwardly against the trunk before me. "Wake up, wake up, wake up! You stupid _bastard_!"

Normally, I wouldn't be anywhere _near _this worried. Uh, not that I'm actually worried or anything. But it's been almost a whole day since he went down, and his heart's not even beating! A whole fucking day! He should already be back on his feet! Something's horribly wrong here. None of us ever take this long. Especially not for one fucking head injury! I mean—I mean, Japan got fucking annihilated by a fucking atom bomb, and _he_ was back in a day! What's going on?

"Will you wake _up_ already, you stupid, selfish son of a bitch!" I still don't get any sort of response.

Oh, shit, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead. No, no, no. He can't die on me. He wouldn't _dare _die on me. Right? Don't be dead. Please don't be dead. You can't die, not like this. No, no, no. This can't happen! Shit, it's happened.

"Please don't cry, big brother!" Veneziano whimpers, leaning over to hug me. I'm so muddled I don't really respond for a moment. And then my first response is an incredibly stupid "I'm not crying." With a sniffle, I just sit here for a minute, being hugged, trembling, staring blankly at the bloodstained, closed-eyed face in front of me.

No particular thoughts pass through my head for a minute, nor do I really want them to. I don't want to think about any of this. I don't want to be worried. Not that I am—oh, screw it. I'm worried out of my mind.

Don't you dare stay dead, all right? If you're really gone... What am I supposed to do?

I—I mean, first of all, if you can die, so can I. So can Veneziano. You wouldn't let that happen to us, would you? Better not, you bastard...

I take a deep breath, but it reoccurs to me that I'm staring at a dead Spain, and I look away before I can get too hysteric again. I end up turning toward Veneziano's face. He still has his arms around me, but he's not quite looking at me. He's just sort of facing the ground, crying quietly.

And he's the one comforting me. How exactly did that happen? He's been hit pretty damn hard from this, too. Finally finding some safety, only for one of us to die straight off... But he's the one trying to make _me _feel better. I'm the big brother. I'm the stronger one. This should be my job.

"Veneziano..." His head tilts back up a bit as I shoulder out of his embrace. He lets go disorientedly, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him in a little. "It's going to be okay, all right?" I mutter. "I'm still here. Nobody's going to get to you."

He sniffles and nods, and we hug a little longer before I let go and turn back to the more worrisome member of the group.

"A-and," I add, swallowing, "he's going to come back, all right? Somehow..."

Veneziano nods, smiling weakly. And I start to notice just how exhausted he looks. He's a bit wobbly despite leaning against a tree, and the dark circles under his eyes are outrageously distinct.

"Veneziano, when was the last time you slept?" I know neither of us nodded off last night—how could we, when we could have to run from Russia or anyone else at the drop of a hat?—but I at least got some rest the night before.

"Um..." He pauses, a few sleepy wheels turning in his head. "I'm not sure... How long have we been here?"

It takes me a second to think about it. "This is the fifth day, I think."

"Just the fifth?" He rubs an eye. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He meets my gaze blankly for a minute, and I sigh. "Get some sleep. You look like shit."

"Yeah?" He hesitates. "Are you sure? That you'll be okay?" He looks over at Spain.

"Of course I'll be okay!" How weak does he think I am? I mean, I may have had a tiny little breakdown when I realized how much time had passed since Spain died, but... "Just sleep, okay? I know you're dying to."

"If you're sure." I nod one last time, and Veneziano lies down, not bothering to step over to a patch of grass. His breathing is slow and steady just a moment after he hits the ground. Talk about exhausted.

Not that I'm really that much better off. At least he's had something to eat, even if it wasn't recent. I haven't had a bite. Five days... It's been so long since I've been in danger of starving, I don't remember how long it has to take... Sure doesn't feel like it could be too far away. Between no food and so much running, I just don't have any energy left. We're really not that far from the stream we crossed. It's hard enough dragging myself around in all of this; I shouldn't have expected I could carry Spain far, even with my brother's help.

Ugh... Even if I have to go without food, I wish I could just feel... hollow or something. But hunger isn't like that. Instead it's like my stomach has teeth of its own, and it's lashing out at anything within range to fill itself. Not such a fucking picnic.

I shuffle over to a tree and rest my head against it, closing my eyes for a second. I wouldn't mind some sleep myself, if only to silence my stomach for a while. But it's not a good idea. Anyone could catch up with us still, and I have to be ready to move. And alert Veneziano. Honestly, I don't tend to be as good at that part... Not that I just turn tail and run like a coward, it's just... yeah.

So... Those rules, huh? I guess they must be true, if Veneziano wasn't lying, which I'm pretty sure he wasn't. I wonder who I'll have to kill...

I shuffle my shoulders, feeling uncomfortable. It's not that I won't be able to kill nations or anything, because I'm totally not weak. But... Who's it going to be? I hate most of the nations here, so I shouldn't run into many problems. Oh, maybe I get to kill Potato Bastard!

No, wait, he's already gone. Dammit. That would have been cool. But yeah, I could take pretty much anyone, I think.

My gaze drifts over to the two by my side. What if I have to kill Veneziano? I mean... he's done screwed-up things to me before, for whatever reason. I could bring myself to kill him. But if he doesn't come back... How would I be able to live with it?

I mean, I'm sure I'd get over it eventually, and... yeah. But, shit, I'm the one he came running to when he was scared. That ought to say something about who I am.

Not that what other people think of me really has anything to do with who I am. I mean, if that's the case, then I'd be pretty worthless. My own grandfather, the most admired nation in history, pretty much abandoned me altogether to raise Veneziano and play with him and teach him and love him. And then just about everyone in history who's hung out with me or otherwise pretended to be friends with me did it for my inheritance. Or they tried to get Veneziano and couldn't wing it, so they just kind of settled for me instead. "Oh, we can't get the real Italy? I guess we'll just take this one, then." And now no one even thinks I should exist any more, since the peninsula's pretty well unified and everything, and of course they never think Veneziano should be the one disappearing. I mean, I'm the older one, I'm the stronger one, I should be the survivor if that sort of thing ever happens, but no. He's Italy, I'm just Romano, whatever that means, right? I know Veneziano represents the whole peninsula in alliances and meetings and stuff, but that doesn't mean anything. Just because he's better than me at making friends and cooking and painting and singing and pretty much everything else—

I mean, just because everybody _else _thinks that he's better than me. It doesn't mean anything. Okay?

I sigh, reopening my eyes. Better make sure I don't fall asleep. It wouldn't be good for any of us.

My gaze rests on Spain for a minute. He looks pretty pathetic. One awkward little strip of bandage, which Veneziano had ripped off his flag before Spain or I could tell him to stop, is tied around his head, even though it's hardly done any good. About half of his head is coated with blood, the rest colorless as can be. And he's just flopped down haphazardly against the tree trunk, positioned just enough not to slide completely onto the ground, but no more. We were too exhausted at that point to try anything else.

And then just a little bit away from him is Veneziano, sleeping like he's dead.

In a sudden flash of panic, I jump over and check his pulse. It's still there. Right. Of course it is. He's not in danger. What was I so scared of?

I go over and check Spain's pulse, too, for no reason other than having nothing better to do. Still no beat. Since his pallor isn't enough to go by, apparently.

It's... definitely been more than a day, though. Why don't you have a pulse? You can't be planning to stay dead. Seriously, you idiot. You're not staying dead. You'd better know that. I know the only reason you hang out with me anymore is because you're nice, but... Well, dying on me isn't very fucking nice, dammit!

At some point I realize I've gone back to talking out loud. But what's it matter? Veneziano's dead to the world—I mean, really soundly asleep—and anyone who can hear me is probably coming for me, anyway.

"Come on. I know you're still in there somewhere, dammit. So listen up already! You're not staying dead, I don't fucking care what you think about it. You are going to come back, wake up, whatever, and you're going to do it now." No heartbeat still. "I know The Rules said our immortality's not going to last, but screw The Rules! Screw The Rules, screw what you think, screw everything, I fucking need you!"

Nothing but silence. If you ignore my sobbing. Which you should, because there's no real reason I'm doing it.

"I... mean... what if you're the one I have to kill to get out? I can't very well do that if you're dead, now can I? You wouldn't abandon me here. Well, y-you'd better not, you bastard!"

It starts to occur to me that yelling at a corpse isn't doing me much good. I crawl back to the other trunk and curl up, looking out blankly ahead.

What... if he really is dead? Then what? Are we supposed to give him some sort of-of funeral or something? Ha! Some fucking funeral that would be! It's just have to be the two of us, since everybody else is out to kill us. And it's not like we could even really bury him. Throw some mud at him. And you can forget about a-a eulogy. Veneziano would be crying way too hard, and I... I'd probably just swear at him, kick him and run off somewhere... and I'd be crying just as hard...

Oh, no I wouldn't. I don't cry easily or anything, and it's not like there's any reason I would cry for him in particular... I mean, if I was crying, it would just be to make up for no one else being there... He's a nice guy... He should have a lot of crying at his funeral...

I rub at my eyes furiously, wishing they would stop fucking crying already. I should stop thinking about such awful things... I mean, funerals in general are just sad.

...What if I get a funeral here, too? It'd just be Veneziano... crying so hard he couldn't breathe... couldn't do anything... couldn't even look at my dead body long enough to try to bury it...

Shit, I don't want to be a dead body. I don't want to die here. I don't want to die anywhere. I don't—

Oh my God, is his chest moving?

I lunge back toward Spain, stumbling to my knees, forgoing his neck and just putting my ear right up to his heart.

_Tha-thump._

I don't break down sobbing in relief, I don't. I just... My eyes are tired from staying awake, okay?

I just sit here for a while, choking back some sobs, leaving others, just listening, listening to that wonderful little pounding.


	15. Prove Yourself

Author's Note: More reviews last chapter than the one before~! Thank you~

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><p><em>China<em>

We're not completely out of food yet, but we're going to have to find some more today. We already ended up pooling our remains together for breakfast, and that was hard to manage. Of course, America finished off everything we were stupid enough to give him by the second morning, and, well, I'd rather eat a decent meal while I know I can, so...

So, Opium somehow ended up the one to divide things out. Normally when it involves food, I'd keep him out of it, but it's not like he has to actually cook anything. And the food didn't burst into flames when he touched it or anything, so I guess it's okay...

He's sure not handing out much, though. We barely got anything for breakfast, and he's not giving out much for lunch now, either. He just takes what remains of one of the tins of Spom, cuts it in four with the lid, and hands it out in the empty tins we've accumulated. Just like breakfast.

My share disappears in seconds, but apparently America isn't satisfied enough with his share to eat it just yet.

"You gave France more than me!" he accuses, pointing at the piece of Spom in France's hand.

"What?" Opium grouches back, looking at said piece. "I assure you, if I gave someone a bigger share, it wouldn't be _that _git." He glances around the circle of us. "I hate all of you rather equally, so I don't think I'm quite prone to favoritism here."

"Well, I didn't say you did it on purpose," America starts.

"I don't care what you said. They're as even as they're going to get." He sighs, taking a nibble of his. "Just let it be and eat the thing before I remember you already ate your share and shouldn't be getting more, anyway."

America mutters something else about it being his food in the first place, but he's apparently too tired to really argue. He just shoves down his slice without much chewing to slow him down.

It's a bit odd for us to be acting this tame, I have to admit. But between the heat, the dwindling food supply, and no one really proposing a plan of action, we don't really want to argue so much.

I distribute the water, since my wok's the only thing with rainwater still in it—or so I've made it seem—and it comes out empty.

"I'll have to get some more, aru," I start as we try not to gulp our rations too quickly. "I'm sure that ditch I found a while ago should have some more in it." Mostly because I was just there last night. Checking carefully for others before refilling and rendering my wok a carrier rather than a weapon. No one's been there lately. It's no surprise Estonia and Latvia are gone; I wouldn't stick around, either, if someone came along and bashed my head in.

I'm pretty lucky that those are the two I found first. Firstly, of course, they didn't get the chance to fight back, since they're not exactly known for their combat skills. And then, you know, if the immortality thing's already running out a little, well, they wouldn't be missed as much as some of us...

But I'm definitely glad they came back and everything. For my sake, too, since I don't have to be so worried about my own life just yet. Or others'. I haven't found anyone else hanging around during my night watches, so I haven't done much else.

I suppose I do have some opponents right in front of my nose, but... It'd be awfully hard to beat one to death without the noise waking up the others, and they probably wouldn't be pleased with me after that. This alliance isn't going to last forever in a place like this, but I might as well wait until the food's gone. Even if it's the same thing every day, I haven't found much elsewhere aside from a meager handful of nuts. And it's not like I'm going to up and steal their food. They deserve it, but I'm not going to stoop to their level.

So I can wait. As far as I can tell, there's nothing different about my immortality, so it's probably no different for the others. I'm in no rush.

Although it is the fourth whole day... Well. I'm sure I'd feel it if something was going wrong, right? I've been immortal for a good four thousand years, so I think I'd notice if something suddenly changed.

Ngh, I have no idea how this works. Four little rules are all we have to go by. Oh, why four? Everything about this place reeks of misfortune, and I want out.

But on the other hand, I'm not killing this lot now and risking what little food I have. So I'll just keep calm...

"I'll go get more water now, aru," I announce, getting to my feet. France and Opium nod, while America's too busy complaining about being hungry to care. I swoop down, pick up my wok, and turn toward the trees. In doing this, my shoulder bumps into someone.

"Ah—" I start. It's Canada. Keep forgetting he's here.

He opens his mouth, but I quickly say, "Sorry, aru. Didn't see you there."

He falters. "Um, that's okay..."

I nod and step over to the forest. My ditch isn't far from here, so I reach it quickly. I keep my weapon battle-ready, but it's clear no one's here. I go on and get a wokful of water, which is easier than it was before the rain fell. I stand back up, check the area again, and head back.

By the time I'm at the shore, Opium and France have started raining blows on each other again.

Aiyah! Leave them alone for one second, and they tear each other apart! I'm just surprised America hasn't joined in this time. Although he's still sulking about not getting more food, so I don't blame him.

"Will you stop that, aru?" I exclaim, setting the wok down on its over-the-firepit cradle. This either snaps a little sense or embarrassment into them, because they pause.

"Really, aru! What reason could you possibly have this time?"

"Believe me, you don't want to know," Opium sighs, letting go of the side of France's shirt.

"I was getting bored," France says with a shrug, "and, well..."

"No need to elaborate further," Opium responds, rubbing his forehead.

I groan. These Westerners. No patience, all violence.

"Well, whatever it was, don't do it again, aru. And you, Opium, don't hit him for it." France sighs and nods like a child being scolded, and Opium just rolls his eyes. Ugh. No force on Earth could make these guys behave.

"Eh?" Opium blinks, looking over my shoulder. I pause and do the same.

"Japan!" I jog toward him, as he's stopped at the edge of the woods. He looks a bit unsteady on his feet, but otherwise he seems fine. Except... all of that blood on his clothes...

"What happened, aru?" I ask, sliding up one of his bloodstained sleeves to check for wounds. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He pulls his arm away, and the sleeve slides back down. "This is all from old wounds."

"Okay, aru..." I pull back, sort of relieved he's at least not in trouble right now. But I can't help but wonder what he's been through here to make him bleed so much his shirt's all but ruined.

By now, the others have started to gather around Japan. "Good to see you all right," Opium says. "What's happened to you, though? Have you been killed?"

Before Japan can answer, America blurts out, "Have you found any food?"

"There doesn't seem to be much food, I'm afraid," Japan says. "More importantly, though... The Rules are real." He pauses for a second, though it's hard to tell if he's doing so to let it sink or or just because he's kind of worn. "I had Germany kill me, and Italy saw him vanish from the island."

"Are you sure we can trust Italy's account?" Opium starts, frowning.

"I don't see any other reason Germany would desert us," Japan replies. He waits for any more commentary before continuing. "And I know we still have our immortality, as I was killed again a while ago." He closes his eyes for a moment. "But I believe it's starting to take longer."

It... it is? No, he must just be imagining it. I haven't felt any change in my life force, and...

Oh, no. Am I not going to be able to tell? Has the immortality really already begun to drain out of us? Oh, I should have known! It had to happen eventually, and what better time for it to start than the fourth day?

Japan looks back at us, resting his hand on his sword hilt, and I swear I catch his shoulder bleeding, just behind his collarbone. Is he lying about being injured, or am I just imagining things...?

"I'm glad I found you before things got too dire," he continues, honestly sounding relieved as his gaze travels between me, America, and Opium. "It may still sound like a bit much to ask, but I would like your permission to determine if any of you is the one I must kill." He starts to slide out his katana, but America stops him.

"Japan, come on, dude. Have I not told you enough times that attacking and killing are no-nos?"

While Opium snorts a bit at America being the one to scold someone for once, Japan just watches the hand restraining his wrist blankly.

"America, this is different. This is no war. I would like your cooperation, but I will do what I have to." Able to slip out of America's grip due to his slick and crumbling shirtsleeve, he withdraws his katana, and I instinctively jump back.

Aiyah! Of course I have to be unarmed when this happens...!

America plants himself between Japan and the rest of us and keeps his eyes on the katana. And I notice a little streak of blood he didn't quite manage to clean off of it.

"Japan, whose blood is that, aru...?"

He meets my gaze after checking the sword. "L…" An almost imperceptible glance at America. "…Liechtenstein."

"Liechtenstein?" echoes America's voice so softly I realize it's actually Canada.

"How many times did you get shot after _that_?" Opium says.

"Switzerland was already incapacitated at the time. But he came back, well enough to kill me and drag me quite a distance away."

"Hmph." Opium goes on, "Anyway, it's not a good idea to continue around killing us. We don't have good enough reason to think we'll always come back, and things have already begun to change, so it could very well be too far on to kill us now."

I _really _hope he's just coming up with an excuse. If we're already completely mortal, we're all going to starve to death in no time! And I can't starve to death! I don't want to die any other way, either! I've been alive just about forever, and I am very well used to it. I have no idea what it would be like to be dead. To just stop being. It's terrifying!

"But we know The Rules are true," Japan counters. "We have no clear way of escaping without them, and it's better to take a chance following them than take a chance otherwise." I can just see his grip start to tighten on the hilt. "Please, I beseech you to allow me to come closer to escaping."

"No, it's better to take a chance that doesn't risk all of our lives so suddenly!" Opium protests. "There has to be some other way off of the island; if there were only one way, we would have had to come that way, too!"

"But," France starts, "it wouldn't make sense for us to come back more slowly only to suddenly stop coming back."

"Oh, quit trying to take a side against me!" Opium snaps.

And that's the last thing he says before Japan's sword is suddenly in his neck.

Opium has just a moment to give Japan a betrayed look before he collapses to the ground. Trying to figure out how exactly Japan got around him, America pivots, grabbing Japan's arm before he can lose track of him again. Japan meets his gaze, not moving.

"What—!" America apparently doesn't quite know what he wants to say, but he resolves this quickly with his fist.

Japan skids back, thumping hard into a tree. America starts to close in on him, and he quickly dodges to the side, running back toward where Opium is lying in his blood. Japan has just long enough to despairingly register that the blonde is dead before America's back. Too distracted by the sinking in of Opium not being the one he had to kill, Japan doesn't get out of the way. America nails him in the side of the head easily, and Japan flies to the ground. America plants a foot on him to make sure he won't be going anywhere soon.

"Listen up," the standing one starts, voice low. "If we just go by The Rules, we can't all make it, can we? At least whoever had to kill Germany would be stuck now. But we're all going to get off. And that means no Rules. And with no Rules, you don't have any excuse to go around killing us."

Japan, breathing shallowly because of the weight on his back, struggles to get up, but it's impossible. Eventually he falls still and exhales. "...All right."

"All right?" America responds, still glowering down at Japan.

"Yes. I agree with you. We can't leave anyone behind here. Not with our immortality draining away like this." He shuffles a bit. "I'm sorry. I should not have acted so rashly."

"That's right." America hesitates, but seeing as Japan looks like he's about to lose consciousness, there's not much of a reason to keep stomping on him. America steps away, and Japan stays down for a minute, gulping down air before he sits up slowly.

He turns a bit toward Opium and bows an apology. Then he stands back up, a bit wobbly still. "I'm... going to go off on my own again," he starts, looking out at the trees. "Perhaps I'll have better luck in finding food."

"If you do, you'd better bring me some." America's not joking all that much.

"And me, too, aru!" I add, glad my heart finally gets to slow back down some.

Japan nods. "Good luck." And with that, he steps off, disappearing into the forest without a sound. Our beach stays silent a little longer, and America turns to look at Opium, who predictably hasn't moved.

"Our regen's starting to slow down already, huh?" he starts, cocking his head to the side a bit.

"So it seems," France responds, his eyes on the same spot.

America exhales. "Man... He's going to be so pissed off at me once he wakes up." The mildly serious look on his face fades as he snickers. "_'You were standing right in front of him, you git!'_" he starts, taking on a horribly-executed British accent. "_'You couldn't even bloody well stop him from there?'_" I have to snort in laughter, just because the accent is so bad. And he probably is going to yell something like that once he gets up...

And then France laughs a little bit, too, and I have to crack up again just because the sound of his stupid French laugh is so ridiculous.

All of a sudden America's trademark laugh of obnoxiousness cuts off. And when I look I see that that's because it's pretty hard to laugh with a katana through your throat.

Japan's still a bit unsteady on his feet, but he withdraws his sword silently and turns toward France and me. I swear and sprint for my wok. Even if it is full, I'd rather risk our water than my life.

"Hang on," France starts, also backing away, "didn't we just agree...!"

"I apologize for lying," Japan says emotionlessly. "But whether I find my way off or not, your plans should not change. And there's far too much at risk for me to sit and play nice."

Though France is closer to him at the moment, Japan pivots and speeds toward me.

"Aiyah!" I grab a wok handle and swing, water leaping out as Japan dodges to the side. He aims his katana for my neck, but I bring up my wok in time to deflect it.

"China," he starts quietly. I don't look away from his blade. "I would not be doing this if I did not know you would come back. Please, it's easier for both of us if you just..."

"Just what?" I shout back. "Trust you? If you don't remember what happened the last time I tried that, feel free to check the scar on my back!"

A trace of hurt flashes behind his eyes before he closes them for a moment. "China. Please..."

"No," I answer, gritting my teeth. Before he can make another move, I push forward with my wok, nudging him off-balance, and then bring it around hard into his skull. He's too beaten up from his battle earlier to dodge, and I get a direct hit. He crumples to the ground, now sprayed with blood, as I stand there panting.

I... I just knocked him out, right? He's still breathing? I go down to check but suddenly suspect he's just just playing and is about to slice me open anyway.

But he doesn't move, and when I finally get the nerve to check, I can't feel a heartbeat.

"Japan..." But we're still coming back, right? We have to be. They're coming back, and so is he. Because I couldn't kill Japan. I don't even want to kill him temporarily anymore. Or anyone. It's just too much of a risk. But if I don't kill anyone...

I'd better pray The Rules lie.


	16. Wrong Edge of the Blade

Author's Note: Welp, sorry for making the timeline confusing again. This chapter should be just a bit after the last chapter with Poland and the Baltics (that sounds like a band name, haha). And apologies as well for the slow update. I got a bit confused as to what all I was putting in this chapter, etc., etc. I'll try not to let it happen again.

So, thanks for the great reviews, and keep them coming! And to those reading this from the future, you review this, too, even though this isn't the latest chapter. Mmm-kay? Oh, and let me know if I've gotten any books published by then. Thanks~

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><p><em>Latvia<em>

Since we all met up, nothing much has happened. We've started walking, looking for food, I guess, and Poland's telling us everything about his treehouses. It's really kind of fun, and it's so nice to have a few more friendly people around me than just Estonia. But I've still eaten next to nothing, and none of us are able to go too far without resting. We find a tree big enough to let us all lean on it and do so.

"...but I still haven't, like, figured out what to make the kitchen out of. Since, like, everything here is kind of flammable, you know?"

"Everything?" I echo, looking at the ground under my feet and, as if it would burst into flame otherwise, stepping over a little. I inadvertently bump into Estonia in the process. "Sorry!"

His eyebrow rises a bit. "Uh, no, you're fine." He flicks his gaze to the ground, smiling slightly. "I don't think the mud's going to catch flame, though." He looks over his other shoulder at Poland. "I don't suppose you'd want to use mud for the kitchen, then?"

"That would, like, totally work!" he exclaims, throwing his arms into the air for no real reason. Though he's around the other side of the trunk from me, I see his hands falling back down. "Like, Lithy! I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!"

Lithuania chuckles. "Yes, when I'm with you. In this group, I'm afraid Estonia's the smart one."

"Not when we're not talking about computers," Estonia defends.

"Ooh, like, got you there."

"All right, all right," Lithuania sighs, smiling, "I'm still the smart one. And with that position in mind, I guess I should tell you a mud kitchen probably won't be built so easily on tree limbs."

"Aw, man!" Poland responds melodramatically. "But we can't, like, just go without a kitchen!" He pauses for a second. "So, like, who wants to be guard so we know, like, England can't get in and set it on fire?"

"Not me!" I say first, Estonia echoing. By Lithuania's face, I can tell Poland's looking at him mischievously.

"Looks like it's you, then," the blonde starts.

"Do I really have to?" Lithuania shakes his head, though it looks like he's trying not to laugh. "Come on, we're not the only ones on the island. Make Germany do it or something."

"Like, okay, fine. But then you have to, like, go and get all of my snacks for me, 'cause I'm totally not going to hang out with him."

"All right, I can live with that." He pauses, looking out into the trees. "You guys ready to move a little further?" My limbs still feel heavy, but it's not too much of a stretch to lean back on my feet, so I nod. The others are ready, too.

"Like, yeah, let's get going, already. I'm, like, starving."

"Me, too," I sigh, rubbing an arm. "We found a strawberry bush, but we only got one good meal out of it."

"Like, ouch." Poland pauses in speaking, though he's still leading us walking. "Actually, I, like, don't think we've eaten _anything."_

"How in the world did you manage to forget that?" Lithuania sighs. Poland just shrugs and keeps walking. We follow him, silent from the thought of eating again. It's a wonderful thought.

—Something rustles.

"Wh-what was that?" I yelp, looking behind me.

Estonia just draws his brows together. "I didn't hear anything."

"Me, neither," Lithuania says, frowning.

"B-but s-something was..." I look over my shoulder again, but still no one's there. "M-maybe I'm just being paranoid..."

"That's all right; I think all of us are, a little bit," Lithuania says. "In a place like this."

"Yeah, but no worries!" Poland waves Belarus's jacket in the air. "We can, like, defend ourselves and stuff whenever."

"Speaking of which," Estonia responds, "any reason you're the one with all of the knives, Poland?"

Poland looks back over his shoulder at him. "Hm? No?" He pauses. "Oh, like, I guess I should give you guys some!" Is this really just now occurring to you...? Well, I wasn't thinking of it, either. Too busy being tired and hungry and scared and...

Poland shuffles through some of the jacket pockets, and we all end up carrying one. Mine is oddly heavy. I don't like it. Would I even use it? If I don't hit them right, they'd just be madder at me... And if I do hit them right, they'd probably be even _more _mad at me when they got back up... Ohh, can someone else do the fighting?

I put the knife in my jacket pocket, and we go on. We get about two meters further before a figure comes out of the brush. Yelping and hiding behind the nearest nation, I don't actually see the newcomer, but I can recognize his voice.

"Good morning. I hate to be so abrupt, and I hope you'll forgive me, but I would like to ask for your cooperation in something," Japan starts.

"Um, yeah, sure," Lithuania starts, blinking. "I guess you healed up all right from being hit over the head?"

"Yes, I'm all right. Thank you." I've started to peek from behind Lithuania, so I see Japan dipping his head a bit. Slowly realizing he doesn't seem to be attacking us, I slink out of my hiding place, though I'm still trembling a little bit.

"Like, told you he'd be fine!"

Lithuania turns his head to give Poland a look. "When did you say that?"

"You know, like... When we saw him."

"Uh-huh..."

Japan rolls his shoulders back a bit, saying, "If I may interrupt..." Lithuania gives him permission, and he nods and goes on. "First of all, I would like to make sure you know that The Rules are real."

"Yeah, yeah, we totally know that. Lithy got killed by Belarus—" now Poland gives Lithuania a look— "not that he'll believe it. But, like, yeah, we know."

"All right, good." Japan pauses, apparently not expecting this. "Then, would you mind if I determined whether or not I need to kill one of you?"

"You're g-going to k-kill us?" I squeak, freezing before thinking I should probably get that knife back out. My shaking hands make me fumble for a minute before I can grasp the handle. Oh, but why am I doing this? I'm just going to make him mad, and—_he has a sword_!

I try not to whimper as Japan carefully slides his katana out, but I'm not doing a very good job of it.

"Don't worry," he says. "We're well aware we're all still coming back—I've only just woken up, really. Me killing you will be an inconvenience to you, but nothing more. I won't do anything unnecessarily cruel, just a tap to the side of the neck."

As I stand here hardly believing such a terrifying and painful experience is nothing to him, Poland heaves an overly-loud sigh. "Like, fine, I guess. But then blood'll get, like, all over my shirt and totally ruin it. And this is, like, my best dress shirt, too!" You know it's Poland speaking when he says that about a hot pink top.

"You may take off your shirt if you like," Japan concedes, not blinking. "I may be in a bit of a rush, but I can certainly allow time for that."

"Okay, fine," Poland says, shoving Belarus's coat into Lithuania's hands and starting to undo the lighter pink buttons.

"H-hang on a second, Poland," Lithuania starts, shifting so the jacket isn't in his face anymore. "I'm not sure this is the best idea..."

"Why?" Poland goes on unbuttoning, not shifting his gaze since the action is apparently too difficult to allow it. "Like he said, we're all still coming back. It, like, won't be fun, but as long as I'm not, like, getting my shirt all grody and stuff, it'll be okay."

"Um..." Lithuania bites his lip as Poland gets his shirt off and thrusts it into the brunette's arms.

"Oh, like, it'll be fine, Lithy."

Japan adjusts his grip on his hilt. "Are you ready, then, Poland?"

Poland pauses, arms crossed. "Um... Like, yeah, there's nothing else I really need to do right now. Go ahead."

"All right. Thank you very much for your cooperation." Japan prepares to swing, and I cringe and close my eyes. Poland makes a little sound of pain, and then he collapses to the ground with a series of thumps. A moment where I can only hear some birds and branches passes, and I suddenly realize I might be next. My eyelids fly open, but all I see is Japan frowning and moving his gaze from Poland to Lithuania. The latter pales a little bit.

"U-um, wait," Lithuania suddenly starts, hugging his load closer to him and taking a step back. "I don't..." Not quite able to find his tongue, he just takes another step back.

Oh, w-wait! Belarus was the one who had to kill Lithuania! Just tell him that, and he'll leave you alone, right? But you're not saying anything...

I swallow, opening my mouth to bring it up myself, but then I see that bloody sword, and I just can't get anything out.

Um, E-Estonia! You've thought of this, right? You say something!

As if he could read my mind, Estonia starts, "You don't need to kill him." But before he mentions anything about Belarus, he suddenly breaks off. Looking troubled, he thinks for a moment before meeting Japan's gaze less sure of himself. "Japan... If we say no, I don't suppose you'll just leave us alone, will you?"

To my horror, Japan slowly shakes his head. "It may seem rude, but I intend to kill everyone I have to as soon as possible, whether or not I have permission. I assure you, it's much safer to be killed now. I can't guarantee anything for later." He looks at Lithuania, who's starting to re-compose himself.

"You don't need to kill me, though," Lithuania finally says, lowering his shoulders a bit. "When, ah, Belarus killed me..." He trails off but shakes his head and continues. "...She disappeared. Poland told me about it."

"Disappeared..." Japan echoes, relaxing his arm. "I see. Thank you for letting me know. I wouldn't want to shed any blood I don't need to." He pauses. "You _are _sure about this, though?"

Lithuania hesitates, and I realize he _isn't _sure. I don't think we ever convinced him that Belarus attacked him in the first place, did we?

With a frown, Lithuania looks down at where Poland has to be. "...Yeah. I trust him."

"All right." I only get a moment of relief for Lithuania before I remember I'm still on the hit list.

Japan looks straight at me, and I almost faint. But Estonia steps forward, giving me a nudge. "If you're going to hunt us down no matter what, there's not much of a point in resisting," he says, and I can tell he's talking more to me than Japan. "And we might as well g-get this over with before we have to worry about our immortality r-running out, so..." He takes a deep breath before preparing to take off his shirt.

"I'm glad you understand," Japan says quietly. "I'm not happy about doing this, but it's what I have to do. It's what I have to do." He waits as Estonia asks for permission and hands his shirt off to Lithuania. "Are you ready?"

Estonia takes his glasses off and closes his eyes. "I'm never going to be r-ready for this. Just—just go." He holds his breath, and Japan thanks him before bringing around the sword again. I can't quite look away in time to avoid watching the blade slice into the side of his neck. The blood spurts out as soon as the metal starts to slide away, and Estonia stumbles and falls to the ground, shuddering as the warmth leaves his body and splashes on the ground beside him. I'm staring at him so hard in so much horror I almost don't notice the absence of the sword ready to kill me.

Jumping, I turn back to Japan, who disappointedly watches the last of the moving blood dribble out. And then he turns to me. Trying to defend myself with words but getting out nothing but gibberish, I take a step back, but I'm almost shaking too hard to not stumble backwards. I save myself by grabbing a tree branch and then go back to watching Japan in fear.

"Latvia." He doesn't advance for a moment, watching me carefully. "It's all right. You won't be dead for long, and... Things could get a lot worse if you don't let me do this now. Please."

"I-I-I d-d-d-don't w-want t-to d-d-die!" I respond hysterically, grip tightening on my knife handle as I take another faulty step back.

"You won't die. You just go through a little bit of pain, sleep a while, and then you come back. It's nothing to be afraid of," Japan says. He takes another step towards me, and I shout, flailing out the hand with the knife before I have any idea what I'm doing. A little slash appears on his shoulder, just behind the collarbone, and I stumble back, dropping the weapon as the blood starts to well up.

"I-I-I-I-I'm s-s-sorry!" I stutter, on the verge of tears. "I-I-I-I d-d-don't know wh-wh-what—p-p-p-please d-don't k-k-kill m-me!"

Giving up on trying to comfort me, Japan just sweeps some of the blood off him and brings his arm back. I try to get away, but when I step on the wrong leaves on the wrong mud, my feet fly to the air, and I fall on my tailbone. With a cry of pain, I push myself to a sitting position, but I can't get out of the way. The katana sails for my neck,a nd I'm going to die, and I'm going to die, and I'm going to die...

Suddenly there's a clang, and I look up. Lithuania has his knife out, and he's blocked Japan's strike with its broad edge. He grimaces as a sudden jerking slip of the blades cuts his hand, his blood sliding down in a little streak just by the hilt.

"Japan. He doesn't want to die right now, okay?" He pulls his hand away, keeping himself between Japan and me. "Let's just try to talk this out a little more, and—"

"We've already talked it out," Japan interrupts, voice blank. "I will do what I have to do. Now please get out of the way."

Lithuania stands there for a minute, but he's not sure what to say. Please think of something! Don't let him kill me! Please don't let him kill me...!

"Lithuania. You are not my enemy. I do not intend to hurt you, but I will if you force me to. Please get out of the way."

Lithuania hesitates. His knife is ready, but he isn't. I watch the scene a moment longer before Japan suddenly isn't in it anymore. I can't even react before the sword materializes in my neck, and all I can do is wail as I fall over. My blood pools on the ground as Lithuania covers his mouth and Japan looks on, his eyes blank but the tiniest of tremors in his arm.


	17. Made Your First Kill Now

Author's Note: Here's an update on the timeline:

Nothing has been added to the first three days.

On day four, the Baltics and Poland gathered; the Italies and Spain gathered; Japan killed Poland, Estonia, and Latvia; Russia killed Spain; and Hungary killed Russia.

On day five, Spain started to come back, Japan killed England and America, and China killed Japan. And now we come back in a bit after all of that.

Hope that helped! Sorry the timeline's so convoluted; it's just for the sake of suspense and all. Hope it makes up for it :3 And also hope you'll review~

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><p><em>France<em>

As the sun nears the horizon, I start to divide out our food. There are less of us around now to eat it, so I go ahead and make our rations a little bigger. And I know I have to be on the edge of starving if I want to eat more Spom. Oh, what I wouldn't do for a decent meal...

"Um, don't forget to give me a share."

I glance up at Canada. "Don't worry; I'm cutting it into three."

"Okay." Canada exhales, crossing his legs. "Just making sure... England kept forgetting to give me some, and I didn't really want to pester him about it... Not that pestering him would have worked, anyway..."

I tut as I hand China his piece. "That silly Englishman. But now that I'm handing out food, I can make sure you get something to eat." He silently takes his piece, and neither of us says aloud that if I were any better at noticing him, I'd have certainly pestered England about it myself.

Canada and I start downing our shares without more conversation. I catch him looking over his shoulder, watching England with a rueful frown. I scoot a little closer to Canada and after briefly considering doing something fun decide now's not the time.

"He'll be all right," I say, putting an arm behind his shoulders. "Both of them will be."

"Yeah..." He turns his gaze to America and rests his head on his hands. "France... Why am I so useless?"

"What?" I exclaim. "How... What are you talking about?"

"I know, I know, it's hard to help when no one knows you're there to help, but..." A low exhale from his throat. "I... I did notice Japan, when he came back. He was still at America's throat in a flash, but... I was there, I knew he was there, and I should have done _something_. If I had just tripped him or stepped in his way, just stopped him long enough for you all to realize he was here, then you all could have taken care of him, and we'd have one less death to worry about."

"Hey." I squeeze his shoulder. "Everyone misses an opportunity once in a while. Especially when our supposed big brothers are attempting to starve us to death." He shakes his head, but I think he might be smiling a bit at that. "And... I think the bigger problem is that none of us have been taking this seriously enough. Some of us are buying into The Rules straight away, and Japan has just about converted into war mode..." I let out a huge sigh and rub my forehead with my free hand. "Oh, this is so stressful! Can't we all just share a few bottles of wine and get along?"

Canada tilts his head up a bit. "You think wine is the solution to everything."

"No, no, not everything. Just world peace."

"Heh." Canada smiles a moment longer before his focus returns to the bodies all around us. "What are we going to do?"

I exhale, pulling my arm back and digging my fingers into the sand. "Well, not much for now. Besides waiting." I survey our little camp, and my gaze rests on China, who's gone back to staring at Japan, who hasn't been moved since he was hit. "Or, we can do something about him." I look back to Canada. "Think you'd feel a little more useful if we got you a weapon?"

"Hm?" Canada hasn't followed my gaze and looks at me with mild curiosity.

I motion at Japan. "We'll have to do something about him if we don't want to die the second he wakes up. And, well, considering we aren't fortunate enough to have wine on hand, disarming him would probably do the job."

Canada stares at me for a few moments. "You... want me to take his sword?"

"It would help," I reply with a shrug. Canada looks over at Japan and, pushing himself up, steps over. I follow him.

China looks up at us. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing much," I say, sitting back down. "We just think we're going to give Canada Japan's sword."

"Yeah?" China's eyes drag to the sheath, but he doesn't say anything else. Canada carefully puts a hand on the hilt and draws out the sword, unable to keep from scraping the metal. The sword's shining and clean now. Must be China's doing.

Canada weighs the weapon in his hands, biting his lip. After a moment's pause, he lowers the sword a bit. "I'm not sure about this."

"Why not?" I look at him sideways. "You do remember you're taking this from the one who just killed England and America?"

"Yeah... Yeah." He looks at the sword like it's going to tell him something he needs to know. Then he sighs and shakes his head. "Oh, it just doesn't seem right. And... I'm not really a sword person, anyway..." He rubs the back of his neck and turns to me. "You don't have a weapon, either, right?" He offers me the handle.

I take it without thinking. I wouldn't _mind_ having it; it's a finely-made blade. It'd be a simple matter to lop off a few heads with this one!

...I really need a glass or two before I lose my mind out here.

I decide I probably shouldn't encourage this train of thought by keeping the sword, so I start to put it back. But wait, am I forgetting something...? Yeah, I didn't take this out of the sheath myself... Oh! Canada gave it to me!

Silently reprimanding myself for forgetting about him again, I stop what I'm doing and turn to him. He meets my gaze, though, from his look of disappointment, I think he knows he blanked out from my memory again.

"Here," I start, handing it back to him as I strain to recall the conversation we were having. "You'd have better luck with it. They wouldn't know you were coming, after all."

"No, they wouldn't," he sighs, taking it back after some hesitation.

"And," I say, leaning back over Japan, "you should probably take the sheath, too..."

"...Hang on, aru."

I pause, looking over at China, who seems to have snapped out of his silence for now. "What's wrong?"

China, eyes on the sword, takes a second to think out his response. "You know... He's going to kill everyone whether or not he still has his katana. A-and... if he takes me down, I'd really rather it be quick, with that, than... whatever else he could find here, aru."

"Well, we'll just have to keep him from killing us, then," I respond.

"How, aru? Tie him up or something? Sit on him? He'd figure out a way to get out... And then we'd have to feed him, too, and we're going hungry enough already, aru. It just wouldn't work."

"But..." I wrack my brains for a second. "We don't have to do that. We could just... Kill him every time he comes back."

"_What_?" China exclaims, spinning to get in my face. "That's ridiculous, aru! You saw The Rules—he'll stop coming back! He might not be coming back already, aru! He could be dead, they could be dead, and we're all dead; we're going to die—"

"Stop it!" I snap. He shuts his mouth, but he doesn't stop shaking. "Get ahold of yourself, all right? We're going to make it out of here." Thankfully I sound more sure of this than I really am anymore. "Just keep your head. We'll figure it out."

"Right. Right..." He rubs his forehead, looking down. "I'm... I'm going to go to sleep now, aru."

"All right." I give him a nod and turn back to what I was doing.

Looks like I'm going to have to be the sane one now. That's bound to end well... And it's no fun for me, either. England, you'd better come back. This is not my forte.

If he doesn't come back... I don't know what's going to happen. Apparently we really will all die. Unless we kill the person we're supposed to.

I glance over at China, who's shuffling around to try to get comfortable in the sand. It'd be pretty convenient if he were the one I had to kill. He's already losing it and trusting me enough, and there's a nice sword right around here. Just stand over him, raise it over my head, down goes the blade, off comes the head!

I really need a drink. I _really _need a drink. And maybe some women. But there's no winery here, and I'm not getting my hands on any women without certain death-by-frying-pan or a million bullet-holes or knives in me. Oh, this is just bad...

I finish taking off the sheath and, forgetting where I put the sword, look around for it. I've sifted fingers through the sand all around me by the time I hear, "_It's right here!_" With a start, I turn toward Canada, who's waving the weapon in the air to get my attention. How in the world did I miss him when I was looking a second ago?

"Right!" I start, handing it over as another little wave of guilt makes me shift. But it's not like I can really help forgetting all about him. It's not like I would have any reason to... I think...

Canada takes it and slips the sword in, sighing. "Sorry for yelling. I just..." He was yelling? Sometimes I forget how much quieter he is than the rest of us...

"No, it's fine. It worked, didn't it?"

"Yeah." He reluctantly straps the sheath around his waist.

I wonder if he's the one I have to kill. It'd still be awfully easy, if I just remember he exists. Just take the sword and...

...And so on. I probably just shouldn't think about killing nations right now. Although there won't be a much better time, either... If we're slowing down as time goes on, it'd be best for me to figure this out as soon as possible, non?

"Canada?" My voice comes out a little odd-sounding, so I clear my throat. "If you... don't really want to keep the sword, it's all right. It was just a suggestion. If it makes you uncomfortable, I can take it, at least until we need to use it." I swallow a little too hard.

Canada looks down at the hilt, the last of the sunset glinting off his glasses. "Yeah? I... think I would prefer that." He takes it off and hands it over. "Thanks."

"Uh-huh." I take it and strap it to me. "Now... You look pretty tired. Go ahead and get some rest; I'll keep watch."

"Okay." He walks over to a softer spot of sand. "Be sure to wake me up for watch later, though, all right? If I don't disappear and all."

"Sure." I smile at him, though my pulse is rising and I'm not sure if it looks normal.

He smiles back, taking off his glasses and setting them just out of his reach. "Night."

"Night." I look away for a second so I don't seem to be staring, but once I know his eyes are shut, I watch him like a hawk. I should start with him. And I won't look away, so I won't get the chance to forget about him.

I try to take a few deep breaths as his chest starts to rise and fall more slowly. I make myself wait a bit longer before I experimentally withdraw the sword not all that silently. He doesn't notice, and China doesn't stir, either. No better time than now.

I tiptoe over, raising the sword high. Imagining a nice, clean cut across his neck sends a few pleasant little chills up my arms.

Before the blade falls, though, I suddenly seem to remember that the one I'm trying to kill is Canada. Canada. He was such a cute, well-behaved little kid. Hasn't changed much as far as that goes. If I kill him, if I honestly kill him for good... How could I live with it? I've lived with plenty of atrocities, but...

But he will come back. Right? It's too soon for him to just die. Yes, much too soon. He'll be fine. In the meantime, I'd better get this done...!

I watch him sleeping peacefully a moment longer before bringing the sword down hard. Immediately taking a few steps back so he can't see that I killed him, I look on a little too happily as his head tilts off-kilter from the rest of his neck. Blood gathers underneath him, and I hold my breath, but it doesn't look like I'm going anywhere.

I just killed my little brother for no reason.

Pushing down the lump rising in my throat, I hurry over to China. I'd better make sure it's not him, either! I get to chop off his head, too! Fun, isn't it?

Breathing strangely hard, I bring the sword up again, some of poor Canada's blood dripping down on my hair. With an exhale of crazed laughter, I cut his head off, too.

Nothing. Nothing but blood. But it's okay, because they'll come back, just like the others. We'll all be okay. And all I have to do is go around and cut off more heads! Not so bad after all...!

No, that's bad. France. That's bad. Don't start on this again. Killing everyone is bad. What you just did was bad. Stay together, man. Just because they've been having breakdowns doesn't mean you need one, too. Even if your sort of breakdown is a bit more useful than theirs...

No. Just no. We're not going there. Just hold on. Just... go to sleep for now, since no one's left to guard, and anyone passing by would probably think you're dead, too. Get some rest, and it should help some. All right?

Shaking, I do my best to comply.


	18. Be There for You

Author's Note: Waah, the updates have been kind of slow lately, so sorry about that. I'll try to do better, if my schedule will ever clear up a little.

Thanks for all of the reviews! The amount's been decreasing a bit lately, but I'm sure everyone just went on vacation at the same time and will be back soon to review. Yes? Yes. Please review~

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><p><em>Liechtenstein<em>

I wake up on the island for the fifth time. It's sort of nice, in a way. I'm sure there are a few nations that are all around looking for me to kill me, but that's okay. They'll never get me, because my brother's here. Even if he is starting to run low on bullets after shooting at birds, he'll take care of me.

So this is really sort of like a picnic. It's not all that comfortable sleeping, and the days can drag on a little bit, but it really is sort of pretty out here. All of the trees and flowers and things... And I'm sure the shore is just as lovely, but it looks like we won't be moving from here. That's all right. Brother knows best.

I carefully climb down the tree after Switzerland has already done so. We take a few sips from our water bottles—we're almost out again, so we'll have to refill them—and then we're off to look for food. We've been having to travel a bit farther for each meal, since we either keep killing all of the birds and things in the area, or they've all been scared off by the gunshots. But the gunshots also seem to be keeping the other nations away. No one's approached us since Japan.

So we walk through the woods, trying to keep our footsteps as quiet as possible. I keep an eye out for everything, and I see some berries, but they don't look like the edible kind. Soon enough, though, a fat squirrel comes speeding across our path, and my brother shoots it before it can get more than one paw on a tree. He picks it up and hands it to me, and we keep walking toward our source of water.

When we've almost reached it, I realize someone else is already there. Two someone elses. Hungary and Austria. They're kneeling down drinking, seemingly not concerned with what could be in the water. I wonder, is this the first water they've found in a while?

My brother silently comes to a stop, switching his rifle for his submachine gun with tense hands. He doesn't shoot immediately. There's not much of a point of mixing blood with our sure water source, right? We can wait.

I can definitely wait. I know my brother must have a good reason to hate him, but Austria's never been mean to me. And Hungary... We're kind of friends, you know? I know she wouldn't hurt me... Do we really need to kill her?

No sooner have I thought to ask Switzerland to let her go than I've bitten my tongue. No. That's not how we work. We know what happens to nations who show favoritism, and we don't want to go there. No real friends, no real enemies, not for us. We know better. Besides, I'm perfectly happy with just my brother's company.

So I just hold my breath and stay behind him. The two in front of us wrap up their drinking. Hungary is the first to notice us. She quietly notifies Austria, and, rubbing the side of her head a little, puts herself between Austria and Switzerland. She keeps her pan in front of her heart as she dares to stand. My brother still doesn't shoot. Her toes are still in the water.

Austria gets up slowly, watching the barrel of my brother's gun. Slowly, so it won't look like he's somehow attacking, he pushes his glasses back up his nose and takes a step back. Hungary follows him, not moving her gaze from my brother.

It goes on like this, silently, like they're sure my brother will shoot if they try to say anything. Switzerland watches them carefully, trying to decide how far he'll let them get before shooting them. It's clear that they're not going to hurt us, but this is the only good water source we know we have right now, and they might come back. And Switzerland asking nicely for them to go away doesn't tend to drive the point home. So he's still going to shoot them.

The two are just over a person-length away from the water when the bullets rip. One or two clangs off Hungary's frying pan, but she can't move it in front of her head in time to block any more. And as soon as she has fallen to the ground, Austria isn't far behind.

"Don't come back here," Switzerland says hoarsely while they can still hear him. He waits a second before starting over there to drag them away. I follow him quietly, feeling a bit useless as he hauls the both of them, scratchy streaks of blood in their wake. He lets go of Austria but decides to move Hungary out a little further. She's the more dangerous one, so it makes sense.

My brother lets her go next to a tangled-up bush and wipes his hands off. "Come on, then. Let's go get our water."

I nod, and we start back. Once we're at the pond, we realize Hungary's frying pan is still there. My brother dips over to pick it up.

"Might as well boil our water in this. It'd be a lot less trouble." He pauses and looks at me. "I mean, we'll give it back, but she's not going to be using it right now."

"Right." I step away to get some wood as he gets a careful panful of water. We boil it, wait a while, and then pour it in our water bottles. After another cycle of this, and cooking that squirrel for breakfast, we start to head back to Hungary. The ground is more crackly under my feet since the rain was a while ago. It's nice not to worry about slipping.

And it's nice not having to worry about shooting people, too. I was awfully scared when we first saw The Rules, but my brother says it's all a lie, so we'll all still be coming back normally. I wonder how long it will take for someone in a plane or ship to find us. Hopefully it won't be long. It's nice out here, but it's hot and not that comforting outside of its appearance. My nice clothes keep getting scratched by branches and things, the meals aren't that good, and, of course, all of the other nations are going to be after us. It's still a bit scary, but I know Switzerland will take care of me. And if something does somehow happen... I'll still come back.

I find myself rubbing at the side of my neck, although the cut has long since healed up. I hope I don't have to die again. Not like that. Just the flash and fire of pain, the hot blood throbbing out and sliding down, the strange shifting consciousness as every sense gets ripped away... How the others could take this unblinking, I can't even comprehend. They're just used to it, right? And I thought _my _life had been full of struggles...

My gaze flicks to the back of my brother's head for a second. He's that way too. Unafraid. I really don't know what all he's gone through. I've read some books, but I don't know where _he_ was in all of it. He doesn't really talk about his life story much, and it would seem rude to ask him. If he's gone through that sort of death enough to be used to it... I just can't make him think about it any more than he wants to. I'd rather let him be a little more of a stranger to me than make him unhappy.

We drop off the pan and angle back to our tree. The walk's been tiring, so I end up curling up a little in my nest and closing my eyes. It's really too hot to sleep during the day, but I can still rest a little bit. I relax, wiggling my toes out of their not-made-for-hiking shoes, and try to clear my head. There aren't many birds chirping around here any more, but the leaves make a nice sound when the wind shakes them around. So nice...

I hover on the edge of falling asleep, my thoughts losing coherence, and suddenly there's a pang in the side of my neck. I jolt back awake, hand flying to the site, but there's nothing.

"Does it still hurt?"

I jump a little, realizing my brother is looking at me from his nest. Before I can get words out, I start shaking my head quickly. "No, no, I'm fine. It's all healed up now, see?" I remove my hand and tilt my head a little so my neck is more visible. Switzerland just looks at it for a moment, and I look away.

Why do I have to make him worry so much? I know I'm weak, but I think he likes protecting me, so that's okay, but... I shouldn't be so faint-hearted! I'm alive now, he's alive now, and no one's going to hurt us again! There's no reason I should still feel so upset over this...!

Branches shuffle as my brother comes to sit next to me. He's silent for a second and then says, "I didn't just mean the cut."

"Ah..." I shift my legs and sit up a little more. Still looking ahead at nothing in particular, I start, "I guess I'm not completely all right... My neck doesn't hurt, and I know absolutely that it won't happen again. I just don't know why I still..."

"Hey." My brother scoots a little closer. "Being killed is scary, all right? And you haven't even fought in all of the wars we have..." He closes his eyes and exhales. "For your first time being killed, you're doing really well, all right?"

I turn back to his face. "You think so?"

"Yeah." He looks to his side, checking our surroundings just in case. "Don't worry about it, okay? I don't _want _to see you acting scared, but it's more than you can help. Than much of anyone could help. You'll get better. Just remember no one else is going to get to you, not with me around."

"I would never forget."

"All right." He looks at me for a moment longer before climbing down to his nest so he can keep a better eye on the surroundings. I watch him silently, wondering what I ever did to deserve a big brother like him.

We sit in silence for a while before Switzerland suddenly stiffens. He starts to ready his gun, and I follow his gaze. I don't see anything at first, but in a moment, someone breaks through the brush. It takes me another second to identify him as France.

What is he doing by himself? I know he ran off with some of the other Allies when we scattered. And I can't see him running away from them unless... I don't know. Did they kick him out or something? Or... Or try to kill him? But he's fought enough not to be scared like me, and he should know he's not going to die for good. Or does he think The Rules are real?

I wonder how many others think that. It's silly to think that we'll have our immortality taken away, but with the context of suddenly arriving in a strange place like this... I could understand why people would believe The Rules. They do explain a lot of this. Where we are, how we get off... But they don't quite catch everything, and my brother knows they're wrong. I believe him, of course, and it makes more sense for them to be wrong, too. We're not all going to lose our immortality like it says. It's just not really possible.

My brother readies his gun, following France with the barrel as he comes closer to the gun's range. It's a slow process, since France isn't really walking toward us. He's just sort of wandering in no clear direction, mumbling to himself. I can't hear the words from here, but he looks terrified. He's not really checking for enemies, though; he certainly hasn't noticed us... What happened to him? And why does he have a sword? It looks like Japan's...

Just not having enough good pieces to put together, I stop worrying myself and plug my ears in anticipation of the gunshots. Even if he doesn't know where he's going, France is steadily nearing us, so he'll be shot down soon enough. It's another good minute before he's finally close enough, and Switzerland fires. France goes down in a splash of bullets, and my brother lowers his gun. Setting the weapon down carefully, he swings his legs over some branches to climb down.

For some reason, he pauses. Narrowing his eyes at the wood in confusion, he rubs an eye, but it doesn't seem to help.

I'm already climbing down toward him. "Brother! What's wrong?"

"I... don't..." His gaze flicks up to me, and he looks over his shoulder. And... something looks off about him...

Turning his head back away from France's body to look at me, my brother shakily pulls himself back into the nest and with hands shaking whips the rifle off his back and sets it next to the other gun. Somehow I can see some of the handle through his hand. What... what's happening...?

"Liechten," he starts hoarsely, putting his pocketknife next to the guns, as I continue to make out more and more of the leaves behind him. "I was wrong. The Rules are real."

"What?" I exclaim before clamping a hand over my mouth. No, no, they can't be... But then why would he be fading...?

"They're real. They won't let me stay. But listen! They won't be all be true—I'm going to get you out of here." He seizes my arm, though I don't begin fading at all. "Just stay safe, don't take chances, and I will come back for you. I'm getting you home as soon as I can! No—I'm getting you home tomorrow! Just stay out of sight, don't let anyone hurt you—"

And then he's gone. No image, no more pressure on my arm. Trembling, I wave a hand out where he was, but there's nothing but air.

The Rules are true...? No, no, no... Not without my brother here to protect me... No...


	19. Where We Really Want to Go

Author's Note: Romano's in this chapter. There's your warning.

And noo, I'm not using lyrics from Bruce Springsteen songs for all of the chapters in Spain's POV. You silly people, you.

And the review count's going back up, wheeeee! Haha... I promise I do have greater loves in life than reviews. I'm just not as willing to beg for them like a sorry child. Reviews, reviews, reviews, thank you and please.

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><p><em>Spain<em>

We've finally made it to the shore. Good thing, too, because there aren't any decent ponds, and I unfortunately still smell like death even though I've been back for almost a day.

Oh, man, when I woke up, ha! It was pretty late in the evening, and both of the Italies were asleep. I almost nudged them awake, but with my luck, they'd probably think I was an enemy and set off running before checking. So, I figured, I was still pretty tired, and my head was still pounding, so I might as well close my eyes for a little while, too, right?

I woke up after them. I was still in that weird little part of waking up when you know you're awake but you really don't want to open your eyes and all. So, I was over there, looking like I hadn't quite come back yet, and it sounded like Romano was telling his brother that I was going to be okay after all. Must have been asleep when my heart started beating again.

So one of them stepped over towards me and nudged me a little, and I heard Italy asking me if I was okay. I didn't respond for a little bit, and Italy stopped trying to nudge me awake.

"...I won't wake up until you both tell me to."

Of course, I had to get up after that one, because there are only so many times I can get punched by Romano before I have to get out of the way a little. But it was worth it.

So, after I had gotten up and Romano had calmed down enough to use words that weren't curses, we set off for the shore. We would be moving around for food, anyway, and one direction's about as good—or bad, as has been our luck so far—as any other. The island's big enough I can kind of smell the direction of the water, so it wasn't too hard to get here. Apart from all of the hiking, which was _exhausting_.

And, man, Romano won't let me forget that. When we get to the sand, he just sighs loudly and slumps against a tree.

"You all right over there?" I say, shedding my jacket and shirt. Italy—who seems to be acting more like himself now—has already done so and is splashing around.

"No." He crosses his arms. "I've gone without a fucking bite of food for six days now; how could I be all right?" He kicks at some sand with his heel, though the motion's so weak it doesn't accomplish much. He really is exhausted. But who wouldn't be after going hungry that long, you know? I mean, I've been starving, too, and I had to fight, and I had to come back from the dead, but... Maybe he's still somehow more tired than me?

"Don't worry, Romano. Just let me wash off, and we'll look again. We're sure to find something soon."

"Will you quit fucking saying that?" he responds. "We're not going to find anything, dammit! There's probably nothing _to _find! We're just going to starve over and over until we're finally fucking dead, and we're never going to get off this fucking island with those fucking rules, and... Damn it all..." He buries his face in his knees.

"Hey." I walk back over and squat next to him. "Don't worry about The Rules either, all right? We'll get out of here." He just peeks over his knees to glare at me. Looks like he started crying again without me noticing.

"If you want..." I smile. "You could go ahead and kill me now, to see if I'm your nation."

He stiffens but doesn't make any other move for a while. Just as his brother comes in from playing, he starts shaking his head a little.

"No?" I cock my head to the side. "Why not? It won't hurt anything."

Silence. After a minute I start to think he may not have heard the question. But before I can ask again, he finally mutters, "If you're dead, you can't get me food."

I laugh. Of course that's what he's worried about. "Well, I'm not doing the best job alive, either."

He just grunts and looks over at Italy, who's looking at his shirt and jacket, apparently wondering which he should put on first.

"How..." He looks back at me. "How can you not be taking this seriously? We're never going to get off this stupid island if we don't figure out who we have to kill before..." He trails off, tucking his chin behind his knees.

"Well... What would be so bad about that?" I start, sitting down next to him.

He literally jumps a little. "What—what the—why would you—_What_?"

"I mean... I guess it's really not the nicest place, but it's so nice and sunny, the beach and forest are both beautiful, and when we finally find some food, it's going to be the best. I really like this place, you know?" I snicker. "And there's no paperwork or anything. Just a nice place where the three of us—" Italy's sat down with us too, so I throw my arms behind his and his brother's backs— "relaxing and having fun _together, every day, forever and ever..._"

"Oh, shit, Spain's gone into creeper mode again!" Romano screeches, scooting away. Italy ducks out of my reach, too.

"What? What'd I say?" I watch them confusedly, and they give me odd scared looks before I awkwardly announce I'll go ahead and wash off now. I pad over to the water and start to scrub myself.

I guess I must have just started ignoring how dirty I was getting, because I can't imagine I could have just forgotten about all of this. A lot of mud and dirt and sweat, and some blood, is just caked on, and I feel like I've cleaned off enough to rival my body weight by the time I deem myself decontaminated enough. The smell of rot seems to have gone away, too, so I get back to dry land. I slap my trousers on and decide to lie as is on the sand, just let the sun dry me off.

I've closed my eyes by the time I realize the Italies are talking.

"...find something, though. Japan got me some strawberries earlier, so some of those should be around, right?"

"Unless he ate them all himself already." Romano huffs. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"He'd probably leave some for us, though! He can find more food, and deep down he's really nice—"

"Do you just say that about everyone but me?" Romano snaps.

"What?"

By now, I've rolled on my side to watch. Italy has a sort of horrified look on his face, while Romano is glaring out into space. Whew. Sometimes those two really don't get along. Although Romano really is grumpy about the whole food thing. Maybe I should go ahead and start looking. But it's so nice just lying in the sun... Ah, well.

I push myself to a seated position and reach to my side for my shirt. "I'm going to go ahead and look for food now. Might be a little late for supper, but—wait, where'd my shirt go?" I turn around to look instead of feel around, but I still can't see it. No jacket, either. "Who took my clothes? And my shoes?" I look over at the brothers with brows raised.

"I didn't do it," Italy says.

I turn to Romano, and he scowls. "Why the fuck would I want to take your shoes?"

"I don't know..." I sift my hands through the sand, but there's nothing. "But somebody took them."

Italy squeaks when he realizes this means someone else is around, but I tell him it's all right. "I don't know where they went, but if they're stealing clothes, they're probably not coming after us." I stare at the ground for another second. "Weird. Oh, well."

I step over to the edge of the grass and start to walk carefully. Within three steps I manage to puncture my big toe on an unseen bramble. "Ah—!"

"Spain?" Italy comes after me as I sit down to take out the thorn. After I get a good enough grip on the thing, I look up at him.

"I'm fine. Just a little thorn." I bite the inside of my lip when I yank the thing out.

Italy cringes at the little blob of blood that follows it. "Are you _really_ okay? You can use my shoes if—"

"No, really, I'm fine." I take a second to smile at him before wiping the blood away. "I'll just whip up some sandals here. Uh..." I look at the ground, but there doesn't seem to be anything suitable.

"Oh!" Italy says suddenly. He scurries over to a tree and carefully peels off two chunks of bark. He piles on some hanging moss and, after plucking a vine, trots back over to me. "Will this work?"

"Yeah!" I scoot a little so he'll have a decent place to sit while he fits them or whatever. "You're just really good at creating stuff, aren't you?"

A moment later I start to suspect my sudden discomfort is from someone staring at me and turn my head to check. Romano looks like he's ready to kill both of us.

"Uh... You okay over there?" I start weakly. He glares at us a second longer before turning away to sulk. I do not understand that kid...

I turn back toward Italy, who has set the sole-things under my feet but can't quite tear the vine in half. He lowers it, either thinking or zoning out for a second, and then something seems to dawn on him. He reaches into a jacket pocket and pulls out a bottle top to start sawing with it.

"Why do you have..." And then I suddenly realize that jacket's pretty big on him. "...Ah. It's Germany's jacket, isn't it?"

He pauses to nod sadly. "Uh-huh..."

I flex my foot a little as he gets the vine separated and prepares to secure my sole to my foot. "You know he has to be safe at home, right?"

"Yeah," he responds, though he doesn't sound that convinced. He looks at the vines in his hands for a second. "Do you think he's looking for me?"

"Of course he is!" I shift my arms. "Why wouldn't he be?"

"I don't know..." His lips wobble a little, and he starts to sniffle. "He hasn't come yet..."

I lean forward on my knees, closer to him. "I'm sure he's coming, all right? And until then, I can do just as good a job of keeping you safe."

Abruptly, Romano flops to sit right next to me. What's got him so riled up all of a sudden? To walk all the way over here when he's apparently so exhausted he can't stand to take another step...

He snatches the vines from Italy's hands and pushes him back. "You have no idea how to tie shoes, anyway," he growls, glaring down at my foot and tying the vine around it himself. He does the same with the other. "There."

"Thanks..." I start awkwardly. Romano doesn't seem very happy with my response. "Really, thanks. Can't walk in them if they're not tied together, right?" I stand up, and they're not exactly what I'd buy at the store, but they're protective, and they don't seem to be breaking at the moment.

Romano's still glowering at me.

"Hey, lighten up a little," I say. "It's cooling down, the bugs are chirping, and the sunset's wonderful."

"And everyone's out to fucking kill us!" he shouts. "And we have no food, we're almost out of water, we're too tired to go much farther, there's no good place to sleep, and _everyone's out to fucking kill us_! Will you quit acting like this is some fucking dream vacation already, dammit!"

"Brother," Italy mumbles tearfully, tugging on his arm.

"Shut up!" Romano elbows him away.

"Hey!" I bark. "Calm down. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything by being cheerful, all right? It's just..." I exhale tightly, my lips flapping. "It really is amazing out here, for me, at least. I didn't really notice it at first, between the sudden heat and the panicking, but, man, ever since we got here, I've felt great. Haven't you felt a little better, too?" Romano refuses to respond, and Italy sort of shakes his head no.

"Huh. I guess you guys just don't get as sick as I do. But..." I breathe out, leaning against a tree even though it scratches my back a little. "Here, for the first time in... gosh, I don't even know how long... I've been sleeping well, I can breathe, I can—can fight, I can walk around without feeling like I'm going to keel over from it, and... I just can't _not _be happy about this! Man..." I shut my eyes as another breeze sweeps past us. "I really don't want to leave here."

"Well, if you don't leave here, you die!" Romano retorts.

I shrug. "Tropical paradise and then heaven. Doesn't sound too bad to me."

"Are you fucking _kidding _me?" Romano gets in my face, and I'm sure if I still had a shirt he'd be grabbing the collar. "No! You're not fucking allowed to die! I don't fucking care how fucking miserable your life is, you don't get to give up and die! Others fucking need you! Your fucking people need you, I'll be damned if some of us nations don't need you... Some of the other nations," he hastily corrects, averting his gaze. "I mean, you can die for all _I_ care, but... Don't. Bastard." Shaking, he walks over to Italy and in a mumble asks him if there's any water left in one of his bottles.

"Hey... Romano..." I don't dare to walk over, but I put my weight back on my feet. "I wasn't really being serious, I just..."

"I don't care. Don't fucking talk like that."

"I won't." I scratch at my back. "So... There's probably about two minutes of sunlight left, but I'm going to go ahead and look for food, okay?"

"Yeah. Sure."

"See you," calls Italy, shuffling through Germany's coat pockets, from behind him.

I wave and head off. The shoes are holding up well enough, besides a few splinters weaving through the moss. I can progress without feeling every little thorn and I bump I step on, so I can keep walking. At some point, I finally stumble upon some leaves that look familiar. I sift through them, to make sure they have their fruit, and sure enough! I can't help but burst out chortling. I pick three suitable ones and start tiptoeing back to the others. Not much of a better way to cheer Romano up than this!

"Romano! Guess what I found!" I call cheerfully as I approach.

I keep the tomatoes behind my back until he actually makes a guess.


	20. Anarchy in the UK

Author's Note: The title might not fit, but I figured the extra second of excitement would be worth it for all of the reviewers wailing, "WHERE IS MY BEAUTIFUL ENGLAAAAAND?"

Reviews, pwease. :3

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><p><em>England<em>

From the scorch of the sun on my skin, I think it's afternoon. I feel too tired to open my eyes, but once I start to remember what in the world I'm doing lying in sand, I force my lids open. At first, all I see are a few dark figures and a blur of sand and water reflecting too much light for my gaze to rest on it. My eyes eventually adjust to being open, and I finally start to realise why the stench of old blood seemed a bit too strong to just be from me.

The darker spots are my allies, each with his own pool of blood. China is closest to me that way, his eyes halfway open, a little seam around his neck the same colour as the ground beneath it. Near him is Japan, on his side, sprawled out like a limp doll dropped on its head. Canada is a bit farther, his head not quite at the proper angle, his blood scratching at the bottom of the glasses by his side. America lies face-down a few steps away, and I step across to do him the courtesy of flipping him over—truly an act of virtue since the boy's so blasted _heavy_—so he won't choke on sand and die again the moment he gets back to breathing.

Though it seems he is already back to breathing. Fine by me. I'd really rather not be the last one to come back alive. We're already having our immortality drained away if Japan is to be believed, and I don't think he had any reason to lie. I'm certain The Rules are true to some extent; they apparently worked for Germany, after all. And I'm willing to assume it's taking substantially longer to come back to life, as it's too early in the afternoon for me to have come back in the same day. Quick bleed-outs tend to require three to four hours to heal.

Not anymore, though. We really are starting to take longer. A _lot _longer. Just a sign of the immortality drain. It's already started, though we've only been here five days... Well, I suppose it must be the sixth day now, but still. Things aren't looking good. We're not much closer to finding another way off, and we're already taking this long to come back from dying... Curses! I thought I would be better able to tell by now who or what is doing this to us, but no luck. Maybe we'll have to attempt swimming or something after all.

Motion by my feet draws my attention. America is stirring. I watch him silently until he finally groans and shifts onto his side, opening his eyes.

"About time you got up," I say, crossing my arms as he confusedly rolls back over to look up at me.

"Wha?" With a grunt, he sits up and slowly starts to look around. "How long have you—" He cuts off abruptly when he sees the bodies by us and jumps to his feet. "What the—What the—What _happened_ here?"

"Don't ask me; I was dead," I respond flatly as he rushes over to the others.

Kneeling by the closest body, which is... er, Canada's, yes... he scrutinises the injury before carefully adjusting the head so it's in line with the rest of the neck. It's easy to see that none of the fibres have been reconnected. He's not breathing yet, either. How long has he been dead? His blood's about the same unpleasant suspension as mine is over there, so it wasn't spilt recently.

Meanwhile, America has stepped back from the corpse. He only takes a second to glance at China's body before Japan's catches his eye. WIthin a second the crumbling, bloodied collar of Japan's shirt is in his grip.

"You did this!" he starts, shaking Japan in an apparent attempt to rouse him. "And the hero will make you pay! Now wake up and take it like a man! _Wake up__! _I can see you breathing—!"

"America!" I grab his wrist, and he stops jostling Japan about. "He's not going to wake up like that, you idiot! He hasn't completely come back yet—look! There's still a bloody dent in his head!" America, not to be easily swayed, checks but keeps frowning. "Come on, then," I continue, trying to loosen his hand from Japan's shirt. "He's not back yet. Once he's all healed up and such, then you can worry about serving justice and what have you."

He glares at Japan's pale face for a second longer before setting him down. Heaving a huge sigh, he flops back on his shoulder blades and squints at the sun. "Waiting's so boring, though," he whines.

"Then don't wait, and do something useful," I respond with a sigh, getting back to my feet. "We should do something about all of the blood before we choke on the fumes."

America rolls over and sits up. "I think we're good. Anyone who's been exposed regularly to your cooking and lived doesn't have to worry much about choking on fumes."

"What are you saying about my cooking?" I respond hotly, stepping back over to him.

"Uh, that it sucks?" he answers with a stupid grin. I resolve to smack it off him.

We scuffle and insult each other for a good minute or two before I find myself slowly backing away. America laughs in victory. "Admitting defeat for once, are you, England?"

I frown, straightening out my collar. "No point in fighting forever." I look down at the others. "And no one else is left to stop us."

This seems to put enough of a damper on his mood. He crosses his arms uncomfortably. "I mean... I'm still gonna bring justice for you and me and China and Canada and wait." He looks at the figures on the ground before examining the trees nearby. "Uh... Where's France?"

I raise an eyebrow. "You just now noticed this?"

"Yeah," he replies, looking unsure as to why anyone would think that would be reprehensible.

"Git."

I roam back over to the patch of my blood and start kicking some sand over it. This isn't exactly a litterbox, but it would probably still help to get this reeking goo away from the open air. I only get a brief moment of doing this in relative silence before America's horror-struck voice shakes the air again.

"And where's the food?"

"Not here, apparently," I say tiredly. "We've been out for a while; if they didn't all die at the same time, they could have eaten the rest already." This is apparently of little consolation to him, judging from the look on his face. "There wasn't much left, anyway." Hardly a relief to him, either.

Though I can't blame him much at this point. Even ignoring the fact that he eats a truckful every meal he can, he really should be hungry. Our meals had already dwindled enough, despite rationing on my part, and we just went a good day without any food whatsoever. That combined with the energy drain from coming back to life, and I'm also rather peckish, to say the least.

Really, though... The hunger I know won't be ended as long as we're here, the scorching heat, the lack of cool drinking water, the smell of rot, the lack of particularly decent places to sleep, and, of course, taking longer to come back... Everything about this place gives off the feeling that the life is being sucked out of us...

America sits sulking where the food was for a moment before I sense motion behind him. Tilting to the side a bit to see over him, I stiffen.

"O-Oi! Japan!" At this, America jumps and spins around to see Japan's attempt to sneak over to China with the wok.

"He's already dead," I call as America pushes himself to his feet. "That won't do you much good."

Japan, who seems to have already been hesitating, sets the weapon down and silently lets his gaze rest on China. Is it just me, or is Japan's head still bleeding a bit...? Given that America and I came back not too long ago, he seems to be back exceedingly quickly, with his fatal head wound. And come to think of it, my neck is still bleeding a tad bit. Hn... I hope we don't start coming back with our wounds ailing us more than usual. It must still hurt like the dickens for Japan right now.

Before I've quite noticed he's charging, America is a pace away from Japan. Using the momentum—though he of all people doesn't really need to—he drives his fist into the moderately healthy side of Japan's head. The injured party goes flying to the side before crashing into the sand and skidding and twisting to a stop. Head certainly bleeding now, Japan pushes himself up, but, before he can regain his feet, America deals him an uppercut with a horribly audible crunch, and he sails back a metre or two. Japan's apparently having a bit of trouble breathing now, but considering his jaw must be broken and a few front teeth are cracked, it's hard to believe he'd be conscious at all at this point.

America closes in ominously, though he seems to be satisfied for now with the damage he's already served. Japan doesn't bother to try moving. I don't think he's quite capable of it. At this point he's just gripping his head, having no better way to stem the flow of blood. I could probably patch him up with my clothing since it's not already blood-soaked, but I don't think I'm going to. We're friends, but there's only so much I'm willing to do for a friend who quite recently murdered me.

Lowering himself so he can make easier eye contact, America tells Japan, "Listen up. I'm gonna kill you once for every one of us you've killed. Sound just enough for you? Hope so, 'cause that's how it's gonna go down. Now," he goes on, crossing his arms, "tell me first what the crap was going through your head to make you kill England, break your word to sneak-attack me, and then kill Canada and your own freaking brother!"

Despite America getting in his face and glowering in the subsequent silence, Japan just can't seem to form words for a minute. "Didn't..." he finally starts, wincing as the sound vibrates through the breaks in his skull. "...kill them... Just..." He coughs. "...you two..."

"Yeah? Yeah?" America responds, sounding all but convinced. "How'd they get their heads chopped off so clean then, huh? You're the only one here with a sword!" He tilts his head down so his gaze is even more direct. "I won't let you escape justice, but I'm hero enough to give you a chance to speak up for yourself. So speak!"

Japan struggles for a second, but he can't get out anything intelligible for a minute. America, losing patience as quickly as usual, looks just about to end it when I interrupt. "America, you do realise beating someone to within an inch of his life isn't the best way to get information out of him?"

America turns his head to look at me petulantly. "Yeah, well... giving the villain a chance to get away isn't very heroic."

"Neither is screaming at a person for not talking after you broke his jaw and half his head, if you ask me," I grunt, sitting down next to them. "Especially when the alleged villain isn't even in possession of the murder instrument." I give America a pointed look.

"Say what?" America's gaze flashes down to Japan's waist and snaps back over to where Japan was when we first saw him.

While America tries with difficulty to put together the two well-fitting pieces, I turn to face Japan. "We're going to get this information out of you eventually, and I have a feeling you're all right with that. But, if you just can't communicate now, he can finish you off, and we'll ask when you're healthier." I bite my lip on the inside. "If you do get healthier."

"I," he finally starts suddenly before having to pause. "...can... now." He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Moments... after I... killed... you," he says, glancing at America, "China... killed me." He looks as if he's going to add something but just grips his head harder instead.

"So you weren't even alive when those two went down," I say for him.

"But then who...?" America trails off, furrowing his brows either from confusion or the realisation he's not going to be bringing all of that justice as easily as he thought.

"...France...?" Japan tries.

America snorts. "Yeah, weak-bob wine-pants decided to go on a murderous rampage. Just gonna say killing everybody and running off really doesn't sound much like him."

"Maybe... Rules...?" Japan's voice has faded dangerously by now, and I note that he's probably going to die of blood loss before we even get this whole thing figured out.

"Uh, what about them?" America asks.

I take a second to think it out. Given the context... Ha, it's almost like he's just speaking Japanese, ironically enough. "You think he's gone because of The Rules? That whomever he killed second was his nation?"

Japan just closes his eyes. I can't tell whether that's a yes or just exhaustion.

"But that still means he killed them in the first place," America points out, still finding this laughable. He turns to me. "And you really shouldn't be taking what he says too seriously, because he lied his head off just to come back and kill me before I could punch him in."

I frown, shifting my shoulders. "I believe him because it makes sense enough. I suppose it's not very coherent to you, but..." I sigh, resting my forehead on my fingertips. "France starts to do rather strange things when he goes through wine withdrawal."

"Doesn't he do weird crap normally...?"

"I mean more than normal, idiot!" I cross my arms. "I don't suppose you noticed much about his revolutions a bit after..." I clear my throat for some odd reason. "...after yours?"

"Uh, nope, don't think so."

"Have you ever read _A Tale of Two Cities_?"

America pauses. "I think I read, like, half of the first sentence." I roll my eyes, and he responds, "What? It's half a page long!"

"That's not exactly the argument at hand, you git!" I heave a sigh and lower my shoulders. "Just... know that it actually is to some degree plausible for him to do something like that. Especially if they weren't able to fight back. And from the looks of Canada's glasses, he at least was asleep."

America frowns, not entirely buying it but willing to play along. "Okay, then. So... France would be... totally gone, then?"

"That's what it looks like." I look over my shoulder at the sand. "There aren't any footprints leading away from here, though I suppose the wind could have blown them away."

America sits for a second before suddenly looking over to Japan. He's on the ground, not moving. "Uh... Well, there's his punishment for killing you, then. We'll get to me later."

"Whatever floats your boat."

I sigh and look at Japan. Dead again, and after killing two of his best friends... But if everyone really is getting out from The Rules... he may still be the smart one here, after all.


	21. Take Me to the Other Side

Author's Note: Waah, waah, I haven't been getting as many reviews as I have been! *throws a fit while ignoring the nonetheless beautifully high review count which would otherwise launch her into a fit of giggles and ruin it* So review, you... should-be-reviewing people! Or I'll... pout. Waah.

...I'm trying to be original with my review-begging. I think it's just getting gradually stupider every chapter... xD;;;

In other news, it's sort of a special for the twentieth (excluding the prologue of course) chapter! Hope you're excited~

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><p><em>Germany<em>

At this point I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

I'm still staying in a reasonably cheap hotel, one near the meeting building. I keep heading over there every once in a while, though I'm not sure what I'm expecting to find. Everything we left in the first place is still there, and... so were some other things. Japan's suitcase was the first that stood out to me. But things just kept showing up. The most recent arrival was a jacket, shirt, and shoes and socks. They appeared on the chair where Spain was sitting.

It's obvious there's still some connection between the island and the meeting room, but it doesn't seem to extend to the nations. I know I came back to my part of the world in my bedroom, and Belarus must have been in her house, too, since she's back and she didn't appear in the meeting room.

There's really not much value in me staying here, as far as I can tell. It may give me very vague hints as to what's going on over there, but that's all. Just to make sure it wouldn't work, I attempted leaving some pasta at Italy's chair, but it just sat there for a few days until I decided to take it back.

Yeah, whatever got us to the island from there is off now. That's one of the first things I checked when I finally got back over here.

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><p><em>A few cars pass lazily behind me as I face the entrance to the building. There doesn't seem to be anything unusual about it, anything different from before we held our particularly unproductive meeting. <em>

_I carefully open the door. The hall inside seems normal, as does this side of the entrance. A little gust of wind shuts the door for me as I step farther inside. I head straight for the meeting room, though I don't ignore the other doors in case anything seems odd about them. Nothing does._

_The door to the meeting room is still wide open. I step through the entryway to get a better view. Everything seems as it was; the chairs are still so haphazardly strewn around the table I feel the need to straighten them out as I investigate. Aside from the furniture, the room's just about empty. The pasta and things Italy allegedly left behind are still at his seat, and a few dress coats are thrown carelessly over chair backs._

_Before I spend too much time getting suspicious about so many of us leaving our nice jackets behind, I come across a slim, black suitcase. Hardly having good reason to leave it alone entirely, I click open the latches and peer inside. A stack of papers, a few pens in fabric holders. A cell phone._

_A preliminary look over the black casing doesn't reveal much, so I take it out carefully and scrutinize the buttons. I have no idea which one to push, and I'm more likely to break these things than figure them out... I take a chance and prod one. The screen lights up suddenly, conveniently telling me what to push next, and I obey._

_The screen blinks into life and, behind a notification of missed messages, a clear shot of Mt. Fuji makes the background. Easy enough to figure out whose phone it is from here. And if it's been on this whole time, it explains why I got ringing when I called him as opposed to some of the others. _

_But if this is all Japan's... How did it get here? Has he come back? No, surely he would have let me know. Wait... I know he brought it with him when we left the building. And then... And then it disappeared. Come to think of it, he was also on the island when he took off the jacket across this chair back..._

_I wonder how much else has made its way here. But that's just idle thinking. More importantly, there's still some sort of link between this building and the island. If things can still get here from there, surely there's a way to get there from here?_

_I suppose the best way to try that theory is the way we ended up over there in the first place._

_With an exhale, I take a last look around the room and proceed to the front doors. I rest my hand on the handle before pausing._

_Will this really work? And if it does, what good would it do? If I'm just stranded there again, it won't get the others closer to home. But—no. I know whom I have to kill, anyway, and it's clear he hasn't left the island. There's not much to worry about. As long as The Rules would work for me a second time_—__

_Bah! What does it matter if they still work? If I have a chance to help Italy and the rest, I'll risk whatever that island has to throw at me!_

_I decide to go back and grab Italy's pasta_—even if he's found food, if it's not tasty enough he won't eat it, anyway_—and then I'm back staring down the door.___

___All right. Let's see if this works! I hold my breath, and, as if it's going to increase my chances of showing up elsewhere, close my eyes. Swinging the door open, I let my eyelids flick back open to look.___

___A few cars drifting past. No trees, no warmth seeping slowly into the building.___

___Just in case, I back up, close the door, and open it again. No change. In a fit of stupidity, I try this a few more times, but to no avail.___

___I won't be finding anyone this way...___

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><p>Since then, I've made all kinds of phone calls—to the nations that were at the meeting every once in a while, as well as to all of the islands I know. None of them noticed anything odd on their territories. I've given orders to search for uncharted islands that might have the sort of wildlife I noticed, but nothing significant has come up so far, and at this point I'm not even sure it's a real island. It could be some laboratory underground, or any number of things. I've tried to be logical in finding it, but considering there's no logical way we could have made it there in the first place, and no logical way The Rules could send me back home... I just don't know.<p>

So, at first I'd be knocking back a few drinks to clear my head to think. Now I've been drinking a bit more to make it fuzzier again. I hate not being able to really do anything. Just sitting back helplessly, with no idea what's going on, as others do the battling for me.

Speaking of battling, I have to wonder how Italy's faring with everyone after him. Wonder if Japan's seeing to it he has enough to eat and isn't being beaten up by everyone passing by. Wonder who all have been killing. Wonder who all have been killed. But I know nothing. Freaking nothing...

I can't figure out what this is doing to the outside world, either. Everything seems normal. I keep an eye on all of the news, but there doesn't seem to be anything huge from nations killing each other. Just a plane crash, a new strain of flu, a few unrelated school shootings... Nothing that points to an apocalypse. Is there no impact on the world from all of this? That doesn't seem right. What other reason would someone have to make us all kill each other? Stir up resentment? We have enough of that already, thanks.

Just... I can't even find the pieces I'm supposed to be putting together. It's disgustingly frustrating.

Taking another swig from a bottle, I continue to stare blankly at the news on television. There's not even much of a point since it's in Russian, which I don't remember very well. But maybe I could catch something new from the video, right? All I've got is something that looks like a pet adoption center. Real promising.

My phone rings. I jump and start to walk over to where I set it—not the easiest action since my motor skills are starting to drift at this point—and answer, grateful that I can retain my speaking skills when drunk, if necessary. "Hello?"

"Germany?" At the sound of Belarus's voice, I sigh internally.

"Yeah, it's me. No, I haven't found your brother yet. I promised I would let you know when I got hold of him, all right?"

"I know that." A sullen moment of quiet. "I was just..." She sounds oddly calm, really. I wonder if she's been hitting the vodka bottle... "Do you think I was the one my brother had to kill?"

"Eh?" I mull over it for a second. "I guess it's possible... But that doesn't matter. We'll get him out of there without The Rules altogether if we can help it."

"Yeah," she agrees quietly, inhaling shakily. "Now," she starts, voice sharpening, "you'd better not be slacking off in tracking him down!"

If she were in the room, I'd probably back away a little bit. "I'm not. I promise I'm doing my best."

"All right, so hurry up! _If I have to go much longer without_—"

"I know, I know," I interrupt. "I'll let you know the second I get any closer to finding him."

Judging from the ranting now flying from the speakers, I don't think she heard that last bit. Wondering how on earth this girl could lead a daily life, I hang up and set the contraption back down.

Huh. I guess she could be the one he had to kill. That would mean... I pull out The Rules from my memory, though I can't remember the exact wording. He... couldn't go home, right? So, he would either go somewhere else, which seems unlikely, or stay on the island until the immortality stops lasting... and die?

But then with nearly every nation that leaves the island, another would be stranded. Whoever had to kill me would certainly be—

What if Italy—!

No. Calm down. We're not playing by The Rules, remember? Even if I was the one he had to kill, I'll still get him off that island. However the crap I'm going to manage that...

Rubbing my forehead, I turn off the news and its foreign babbling, and I wander over to the bed and collapse on it. Not sure why, since I haven't exactly been getting copious amounts of sleep in, but I guess there's no reason not to, either. I can lollygag here as well as anywhere else.

Surely there has to be something I've overlooked. Something I could do myself, that would make some progress. I have no clue what, but there has to be something for me to do other than sit around and wait for the techies to pore through satellite files or whatever else they're doing.

Having no better ideas, I go get my phone and start dialing everyone up again. Well, everyone whose phones could be with them. Still no signal from any of the Allies. None from Hungary or Austria. None from the Baltics. None from Poland.

Switzerland's starts ringing.

Sitting bolt upright, I wait anxiously as the ringing continues. This is the first time I've gotten a signal from him, so his phone at least is off the island. Either he lost it recently, or he's back...

A click on the other end. "What?"

"Switzerland!" I'd come so close to convincing myself it was a fluke I'm surprised. "Er... Did you get off the island?"

"Yeah. And I'm going back."

I scoot to the backboard to get more comfortable. "Really? How?"

"Don't know yet." He stops for a second to put something down. "You have any ideas?"

I sigh. "Plenty, but none of them have worked yet."

"Hmph. So, what have you tried?"

"Well..." I elaborate every stupid little attempt I've made as well as the more logical ones beyond my control at the moment. He should know everything, if he's willing to cooperate. We can make more progress the more information we share.

"...and that's all I've come up with, so far," I conclude.

Switzerland takes this in for a moment before responding. "So when will they be finished going through the possible islands?"

I shrug in resignation. "Who knows? They've been going for about a week now—"

"They have to find it by tomorrow."

Despite myself, I snort ironically. "I don't think that's possible."

"No, it has to be!" he snarls back. "I promised her I would find her by tomorrow!" It doesn't take much thought to figure out he means Liechtenstein. That girl all alone... At least Italy should still have Japan looking after him...

"Well..." I shake my head before remembering he can't exactly see me right now. "Good luck. Nothing I'm doing can be that quick, and I'm doing the best I can."

A huff of disdain. "This is why I don't bother with you other nations. You're all useless!" Without further ado, he hangs up.

Yes, you're very welcome for the information...

With a sigh, I set my phone on the bedside stand for a minute. I could probably get more done if Switzerland—or Belarus—would actually help, but... There's not much hope of landing a good deal with either of them. Switzerland's too neutral, and Belarus is oddly unpredictable despite her overwhelming obsession with her brother. I'll have to go it on my own for now. Or, my techies will have to go it on their own for now. I just have to sit back and wait.

I wander back to the fridge for another drink.


	22. All I Can Do

Author's Note: Reviews, reviews, reviiiieeeeews, お願いします～～～

I really do appreciate your feedback, from the most detailed analysis of the chapter to some sort of "AAAAAH UPDATE NOW YOU FOOL" type. They all make me happy. :3

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><p><em>Lithuania<em>

The one-week anniversary of arriving at the island is marked by rain. While Estonia does venture out every once in a while to refill his rock-bowl, we're all taking shelter under our tree. It's working well enough, since this is one of the bigger trees on the island we've seen, and we don't want to stray too far from it, anyway. Once you finally have a decent source of food, it's not the kind of thing you want to leave unattended.

Not that we wouldn't share. Well... We'd probably share. Even if there are tons of them, pistachios aren't exactly a good stomachful. We're not starving so much, but we're still a little hungry. I'm not sure just how much we should be rationing, but I'm trying to be careful to not let us eat a lot. It's especially difficult when I know the others need a lot more fuel since they had to regenerate.

They all seem to be doing all right now, but... For a minute, I really was scared they weren't coming back. It was just taking too long. They didn't wake up until well over a whole day had passed.

We're definitely taking longer to come back. Between seeing Japan and then those three, I'd have to be an idiot to deny that. It's just what else that implies that pesters me. If it's a sign of our immortality decreasing, then The Rules are probably true. And that thing with Belarus... I guess she did kill me... For some reason... She could have eaten something to make her act strange—I don't know. But it seems like she must have killed me, and it's at least believable to Estonia and Latvia that she went home afterward.

And all that still doesn't necessarily mean The Rules are true, but... I don't know what else it could be. Nothing else makes more sense. The Rules don't make sense, either. So I'm just over here, grasping at straws, trying to figure out what in the world I should believe and what I should do about it. Ngh...

With a sigh, I look out into the rain. It's not coming down as heavily as before, and it's nice to get some fresh water... It's still sort of depressing, though. Or maybe I'm just depressed.

Then again, the others aren't that cheerful, either. Poland has apparently run out of ideas for the treehouses—I guess there's only so much he can make up in a week—Latvia's currently napping, and Estonia is apathetically thumbing through the things in his briefcase. We're all sort of bored, I guess. Better that than under attack, though.

Since he's the only one in motion at the moment, I end up watching Estonia for a little bit. He suddenly pauses, taking out one of the papers to look at it closer.

"What's that?" I start.

"Eh?" Not realizing I was watching, he looks at me sideways. "Oh, it's the agenda for that meeting." Adjusting his glasses, he peers back down at it. "Odd..."

"What?" I respond, scooting closer to him although it lands my shins in an area unprotected by our tree. I pull my legs in and sort of look over his shoulder at the paper.

He holds it out toward me. "Is it just me, or are some of the sections faded?"

It doesn't take more than a quick glance to confirm that.

"Hm." Estonia flips the page up by the staple to see the paper behind it. "It wasn't that way before, but maybe... water got in here?" From his tone, I can tell he doesn't quite consider that a valid possibility.

"What's happening?" Poland arrives from the other side of the tree. Not feeling like sitting down, he just leans over the two of us, and some water drips off his hair onto my face.

"Hey!" I splutter, ducking away and wiping some of it off.

"Whoops." With a shrug, he stays in the same position and scans the paper. With a sigh, I scoot around again so water stops falling on me. "So, like, what's this?"

"The meeting agenda," I answer before noticing Estonia has frozen again. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer me for a second, instead flipping to the first page and then back. "Nothing, really... But here." He hands it to me, and I start looking over it. "You see three faded paragraphs, too, right?"

Two on the first page, a third on the second. "Yeah."

"Ooh, faded ink. Like, so exciting, guys."

"But look where it's faded," Estonia says. "Each paragraph is a summary of one nation's speech, and... One of the lighter ones is Belarus's."

"So..." I look closer at the faded patches. The two on the front page are Switzerland and Germany, and the third is indeed Belarus. "You think their paragraphs fade when they leave the island?"

"It's certainly not impossible." Estonia crosses his arms. "I'd believe pretty much anything at this point..."

Poland looks at the paper from behind me. "But that's, like, not very many of us. It's been, like, a whole week; don't you think more of us would, like, get home?" He pauses. "Oh! Like, maybe the faded ones are the ones that _haven't_ made it home!" He pauses. "Wait..."

I don't have enough energy to resist facepalming. "That doesn't quite work out."

Poland crosses his arms in a snit. "Well, I, like, figured _that _out! It just wasn't until after I said it."

"Then maybe you should think more before you start talking..." Knowing well enough that that's quite impossible, I resign myself and roll back my shoulders.

"It's not that far-fetched, though," Estonia starts, bringing us back on subject. "We haven't been running into others much, anyway, and odds are against finding our nations on the first few shots, anyway."

"Then, like, how long are we going to be here?"

I hand the agenda back to Estonia, who exhales and puts it back in his briefcase. "I have no idea. Hopefully not much longer." He snaps the latches on the case and pauses. "Especially with Russia still around somewhere." I gulp along with him.

"Wh-what about Russia?"

Apparently Latvia woke up. He's peeking around the trunk of our tree and quivering a little.

"He's not anywhere close," I start. This seems to settle him down a bit. "We just know he hasn't gone home yet." Well, "know" in a loose meaning of the word. It's still all shots in the dark.

Latvia shifts closer to sit with us. "And how's that?" He freezes. "Has he p-passed by here?"

"No, no," Estonia says. "We haven't seen him. Just... Here." He retrieves the agenda and lets Latvia look it over. "We think the faded names are those of the nations who've already left."

"Huh..." He looks it over quizzically.

Gosh, did I buy into this quicker than him? Why is that? We're just guessing at everything, and this makes as much sense as everything else, sort of... I just want to figure this out and get out of here. I don't know how much longer we can stay. It looks like we'll be all right water-wise for a while longer, but I don't know how long this food is going to last. I don't even know how longer _we're_ going to last. If The Rules are true, we're losing our immortality, and our only hope is to murder everyone else before we die for good. But then they might die for good, and... I can't do that to them. We're just trapped...

"We don't really have proof," I tell Latvia. "It's just a guess—you know." I pause. "But there's no sign of Russia otherwise, so we'll be okay."

A moment of quiet passes as Latvia hands the papers back to Estonia. The rain's starting to slow down now.

"So..." Poland starts, leaning against the trunk. "If we, like, want to prove it, we just have to get one of us home, right?"

"I guess..." I respond. I'm not sure I like where this is going.

"Okay, then... I, like, vote for Lithy!"

"A-ah—What?"

Poland plops down next to me and throws an arm over my shoulders. "Well, I would, like, do it myself, but I'll let you go instead. That way, if something, like, goes horribly wrong on your way back, you can, like, warn me, and I won't try to go!"

"You're so thoughtful, Poland," I sigh sarcastically.

"I know." He pulls away from me a little. "So, like, let's get started already. You still have your knife, don't you?"

"Yeah, but..." I trail off, seeing a trembling Latvia suddenly hide behind Estonia. "Latvia!" He dares to peek out at the sound of my voice. "I'm not going to kill you! You know I'd never do that."

Latvia nods, and he hesitantly comes out from hiding, but he doesn't stop shaking.

Poland, meanwhile, gives me a weird look. "Well, you'll kill him if you have to. Like, what's the big deal?"

"I'm not killing anybody!" I respond. "It's just too dangerous, okay? If The Rules aren't all true, then I'd be causing you all pain for no reason, and if they are all true... With all of that about our immortality going away, how am I supposed to kill anyone? It might already be too late, and I'm not killing any of my fellow nations for good! It's... It's not worth the risk, okay?"

Poland makes a popping sound with his lips. "But, like, you already came back. And all three of us came back last time. It'll be totally fine."

I shake my head. "But you guys took too long for my likes to come back, and... I don't know how long it would take for our immortality to be drained away, but it's obviously already started, and... I just can't take the chance, okay?"

"So that's what you're, like, worried about?" Poland laughs before pointing at himself with his thumb. "Then just kill me first! I mean, you should, like, know by now I'll always come back."

"It's not the same," I defend weakly.

"Like, come on, Lithy. What's the worst that could happen? I, like, stay dead for longer than I should? I've done that before! But I always rise from the ashes, okay? You have, like, nothing to worry about." Seeing I'm not fishing my knife out just yet, he rolls his eyes and tosses me his.

"Poland..." I take the handle but just stare at it, shaking my head. I don't know... I want to go home, but... And the odds that Poland is the one I have to kill... But... he does always come back...

I look over at him uncertainly. He's still grinning.

"Like, come on already!" And then he freezes. "No, no, wait! I'm, like, still wearing my fabulous shirt!" He scrambles to unbutton it, leaving me to sigh. If only the foremost of my worries was my shirt...

He finishes, tossing it to Estonia to catch. "Okay. Ready."

"I don't..." ...Don't what? Don't know what I'm trying to say, that's for sure. Don't know what I'm trying to think, either. I don't want to kill anyone, and definitely not _Poland_, because the immortality might be gone forever. But it's honestly the most logical way to get home, and I know for certain Poland wouldn't die for good... right? Ohh...

"Lithy." He pulls me to my feet and smiles. "I'll be fine, okay?"

...And... I trust him...

"...O-okay." My voice feels broken, and I have no idea if I'm really going to do this as I raise the knife. It'll be okay... He'll be okay, I'll be okay... Let's just try this...

I hold my breath, warn him faintly that I'm about to do it, and after a last moment of hesitation bring the blade into his neck. I can't watch more than the first little surge of blood; my eyes squeeze closed as Poland goes to the ground and one of the others gasps.

Oh, no... What have I done, what have I done? Don't die, don't stay dead, oh, what have I done...

I'm altogether frozen for a minute before I finally dare to open my eyes.

I'm facing a wall. In confusion I give a start, and my feet tap on wood flooring. What... What...

What?

I look around, touching things, leaning carefully against walls and door frames, and I can only conclude that this is really my bedroom. I made it. Somehow I made it back. It was Poland after all...

But he'll be fine now, right? He has to be, and... And I'm not going to find out until he's back, so it's pointless to worry. Not that I won't, of course, but...

Somehow I'm excited enough to push it aside for a second and just revel in the fact that I'm off the island at last. But at some point, my hand starts aching from its grip, and I remember I'm holding Belarus's knife.

Belarus! She's supposed to be out here, too, right?

With a leap, I get to my home phone and dial. There's ringing, ringing, ringing... A click.

"Belarus!" I gasp.

The disappointment in her voice is profound. "Oh. It's you."

"Ah..." Probably hoping for Russia, huh...? "Yes, it's Lithuania. I just got off the island—" that sounds so weird to say—"and I wanted to make sure you had gotten back all right, too."

"I'm fine." She exhales. "You haven't seen my brother recently, have you?"

"No, sorry." I hate to disappoint her... But if I must, I guess this is the way I would want to... "He was fine the last time I caught sight of him, though." Which was probably the last time she saw him, too, but we don't need to mention that.

"Okay..." The phone's static of a sigh. "Why does he have to be so far away...? I miss him so much..." I feel like it's not my place to talk, so I stay silent. "I have no idea how to find the island, so all I can do is try to wish him back and let Germany do what he's doing... I tried to get Ukraine's help, but she couldn't believe what happened to us, and it sounds like Germany got the same thing when he tried to tell his brother, and all I can do is wait on him... Just wait while my beloved brother goes through who-knows-what to get home to me... Please let Russia be okay... I'm sca—" She cuts off abruptly. "...Lithuania's the one on the other end." She swears and hangs up before I can get a word in.

"Ah..." I listen dumbfoundedly to the dial tone before finally putting my phone down. Belarus... I'll help, too, if I can. I guess I'll have to talk to Germany, even though the guy scares the crap out of me. But that's hardly a setback. If it can make Belarus less scared. If it can bring Poland back. If it can bring back Latvia and Estonia and America... and the rest of them... How could I choose otherwise?

Taking a deep breath, I dial Germany's number.


	23. Mister Nice Guy

Author's Note: Long chapter this time. :3

Let me know if I need to post another stretch of timeline soon. And you'll have to do that in A REVIEW. *takes cattle prod and pokes readers towards review button* No, I'm not pushy at all...

But thanks a ton for reviews you've given already. We're past the 250 point! I can't explain how bubbly that makes me feel. So thanks a bunch, and keep it up if you can!

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><p><em>Canada<em>

I can't believe it's been six and a half days already. With that, it's no wonder we've run out of America's food. He and England hadn't been doing much searching yesterday, and by the time China and I came back, it was way too dark to find anything. We went out looking this morning, and now we're almost back at camp. We don't have much to show for our expedition in the rain, but two handfuls of strawberries is better than nothing. And we won't stay away from our camp too long when our guest is still sleeping.

When we get through the last couple of trees separating us from the beach, I can see Japan's still not breathing. Fine. It's honestly better if he stays down longer because then we don't have to worry about feeding him. Exactly how long he's going to stay down, though... I don't know. Apparently it's taking over a day to come back now. At this point there's not really any proof that he's just dead, but...

The thought makes a bitter taste at the back of my throat. He can't stay dead, a-and nor can the rest of us... But I know something's going on, and I have no reason to believe The Rules aren't working on us. I still have to hope we can get out another way, but...

I guess France believed they were true. And apparently he escaped with them. Somewhere I wonder if it was me or China he had to kill, but I realize I don't really care. For things to be getting so bad France would turn on me... Why did he do that? I was never going to hurt him! I just... One of the few I can trust, and it turns out I can't after all. France, you little... You...

Thankfully, England has started to divide out shares, so I have something positive to distract me. He carefully counts them out and puts them in groups. Three groups. Naturally. Before I can say anything, America and China snap up their portions and get to eating.

"Ah—hey, guys? Guys. _Guys._" No response. _Naturally__. _Why on earth would they notice me, especially when it would mean less food for them? They won't do it today—why would they change now? The only time I've had a meal since we pooled our resources was when I managed to hold France's attention for long enough! And that was hardly an effort on his part, considering he apparently doesn't even care about me enough to not _murder_ me in my sleep! Of course none of them would care about the one who in their minds doesn't even exist! You would think, maybe, the ones who had control of me for centuries, or my brother and neighbor who sometimes actually intervenes for me, would notice, but no, no, never. They're too caught up in their own minds, their own stomachs...

You think I'm not hungry, too? At least you've _had _food in the last few days! Compared to my slipping into the woods to ultimately find nothing, you've been practically gorging yourselves! What makes you all so much better than me? Eh? Just because you make yourselves known by screaming at each other and beating on each other and doing such horrible, stupid things every time I turn around...? Is that what I have to do to get any sort of attention? Because I've always wanted to be polite and sensible, even when I'm surrounded by nations acting like bickering children, but if it keeps me from _starving_ to death...!

I let out a long exhale. Just... forget it. It's not worth it. It wouldn't work, anyway. But... Gosh, I'm so hungry... But I'm sure there are others here worse off than me... I can wait a little longer...

With a sigh of resignation, I watch as England finishes off his share.

"So..." he starts, looking over his shoulder. "Japan's still not breathing yet, it seems. I think we can search for some more food, for an hour or two, without much worry."

"All right, then, let's go!" America announces, popping to his feet. "I'm still starving."

"We know," grumbles England as he pushes himself to his feet. China also stands, scratching at the seam on his neck. Mine itches, too. At least it's not still bleeding. Apparently the whole of it was healing at about the same rate, so however much blood leaked out onto my skin also ended up snaking down my throat. The coughing kept me up half of what remained of the night. Of course, I wouldn't have gotten much sleep, anyway, after hearing how I got into that situation...

Trying to push it all aside again, I focus on the leaves and roots as we trek back into the foliage and out of most of the light rain. After all, if I'm the one to find food first, I'll definitely get my share.

About forty-five minutes in, we finally dig up something. Not me, unfortunately, but China finds some bluish-purple tubers. They're thinner than my finger, but the single, seemingly stray plant provides us with a good handful. We take a minute circling the area to find more, but there aren't any within a feasible radius. We eventually decide to go on back and check on Japan.

I end up walking right behind China. The food is pretty loose in his hands. If I took it just long enough to take my share and give it back, he wouldn't notice, would he? But if he does, he'll think I'm trying to steal it all, and that wouldn't end well. Even if I'm only noticed about 10% of the time, I'm not completely invisible. So maybe I'll just hope England notices me when we divide out this lot. There's only so much he can ignore me, right? Maybe?

After a trek long enough to get my shoes adequately muddy, we're back at the beach. After demanding he watch the roots for now and getting in a squabble over it, England goes to check on Japan. He obviously hasn't moved, but apparently he is starting to come back. His breathing must be awfully weak if I can't detect it, but I guess he has a pulse.

From here, we wait on him. While no one's very happy with it, England insists that we don't eat our newest find yet. I guess it makes sense. We don't know for sure if and what we'll find next. So we sit around for a bit as the rain tapers away. It's mostly spent talking about food, and miraculously enough only one fight breaks out. Maybe it's a bit more peaceful without France in the mix, too.

It's well past what should be lunchtime when Japan wakes up. China and I are the farthest, since we're still on his hit list—they actually told the both of us to stay back, nicely enough—while America stays closest. He, then, is the first to see Japan open his eyes.

"Hey! He's up!" he announces, not moving to face us. Of course, with his voice he hardly needs to, anyway. He keeps a close eye on Japan as the latter pauses for a minute to place himself and struggles into a seated position.

"Welcome back to the living world," says England, arms crossed. Not quite sure how to respond, Japan dips his head a bit and gingerly prods the bottom of his chin.

"Okay, so here's the news," America starts. "I already served you justice for killing him, so I guess there's really just me left. But, being the hero that I am, I have decided to grant you freedom from your punishment." He pauses for thanks, which Japan provides quietly. "But that's still on a condition. You don't get to come back and kill them." I let myself feel happy at the use of the plural as America motions at China and me. "And I mean _ever_. 'Kay?"

Japan exhales. "I... I will promise that for as long as I am able. But if I check everyone else on the island and I still do not return home... I am afraid I will have to come back." He closes his eyes. "And you know it would be so much better for them if I were to kill them sooner?"

"Uh, no, it'd be better to not kill them at all. Which you won't." America cracks his knuckles. "Or you'll have to deal with some hardcore justice."

"I understand." Japan bows his head before starting to get to his feet.

England helps him up. "We'll figure out how to get everyone out of here, all right?" he says. "Don't do anything drastic."

"I will do my best." Japan turns to look at the trees. "I won't trouble you any further." He starts to step away. "I wish you all the best."

"Yeah," England sighs. "Good luck finding food and such." Japan thanks him and disappears into the foliage.

"And don't come back!" America calls after him. "Unless you have food. But then you still can't kill us." After waiting a few minutes to ensure Japan isn't suddenly coming back, he turns and gives England a thumbs-up. "Good job being my backup!"

"Oh, shut up, git."

We come back into one group and talk about random things for a minute. I'm able to participate sporadically, but China continues to watch the trees with suspicion. But who could blame him?

Eventually England is finally convinced to distribute our late lunch. He removes the obviously edible parts and puts them into—of course—three piles.

"You're missing mine," I start, trying to cool down my ever-growing frustration. I don't get a response as China starts eating and America takes a second to pick off dirt clods. England, utterly unaware he's skipped over me yet again, is brushing the soil off his, too.

"Hey! England!" Still nothing, and I dare to raise my voice a bit more. "You didn't give me any!" But he doesn't hear me; why would he, why would he _ever_—!

Before I quite know what I'm doing, I've grabbed the tie that's still loosely around his neck and yanked it towards me. "If I do this, can you hear me? Do I exist to you now? Or should I just give up? Because you're obviously just stuck in your own little world where I don't exist, because that would mean you're not such a horrible big brother that you don't recognize or pay any attention to or keep from _starving_ your supposed little brother! You controlled me and raised me for years upon years, I'm still part of your freaking Commonwealth, and you should _know—I—exist_!"

I'm able to stop myself there with the satisfaction of England looking straight at me. Taking in his stunned stare, I tug on his tie the slightest little bit more before letting go, so it jumps back at him.

"Ah..." He shakily sweeps the last of the dirt off his share and offers it. "You can... just have this..."

"Thank you!" I pluck them from his hands and scoot back, nibbling. Nn, food at last... It's not all that good, but it's sort of sweet and... dry... and...

Something feels wrong, so I look up. China and America are staring at me. Shrinking a little, I start, "Wh-what?" They look away awkwardly. England, meanwhile, is vacantly dragging his fingers through the damp sand.

Um... What have I just done...? Oh, no... I didn't really mean it, okay? Well, I sort of did. Just... Um...

"...England?" I start timidly, half-hoping he won't notice me. He does and looks up. "Can we, um, talk for a minute?"

He pulls his hand out of the sand and shakes it off. "Sure." His voice is off somehow.

I hastily finish off my ration, and we end up walking around the shore for a bit before we settle down. England sets his shoes in his lap and puts his toes in the water. "So. Starting with me being a horrible big brother, or...?"

I cringe a bit at his dull tone. "I-I didn't really mean that. I just wanted food, you know?" For some reason, I feel the need to add a weak laugh.

England scoffs, a cynical smile on his face. "You don't have to lie to comfort me. When everyone to whom you try to be a good big brother abandons you the second he knows he has a good chance, you start to get the picture."

"No, you're not that bad! I promise." Really starting to feel bad for bringing on his thinly-veiled dejection, I try to change the subject to something lighter. "But, um, while the others aren't in earshot, why don't we talk about the whole... magic perspective? We probably shouldn't totally ignore something that might help us off and all..." I shift my shoulders.

England just laughs. "You don't have to pretend to believe me just to try to make me feel better."

"No, no," I say, almost starting to feel like this is a pretty good idea. "It's not like that. Just... The island does seem sort of magical, and I admit it still seems far-fetched to me, but we should look at whatever ideas we have, right?"

England sighs, rolling his shoulders back. "Okay, I guess. Just don't make it too obvious you're not buying a word, all right?"

"I won't do anything like that," I reply quietly.

"All right. So, where do we start?" He thinks for a moment. "Well, it's not really magic, per se, but we can begin with vitaloception. I suppose I'll have to explain it a bit first, though. At its most basic, which really a lot of people have, it senses—I'll use the layman's term—aura. Or life force, whatever you'd like to say. For example..." He pauses. "...there are fifteen of us alive on the island. Of course, I use the term 'alive' rather loosely; sometimes we're not quite alive yet when I can sense it."

"Oh... yeah?"

He looks at me with a smirk. "I said try not to make it too obvious."

"Er, no, I can believe you! It's just, ah, a lot to take in, eh?"

"Yeah, yeah, I suppose." He turns back toward the shining water.

"So... That would mean five of us are dead right now?" I venture.

"Or five of us are gone and none dead. Or any combination of the two." He exhales. "I can't tell who's off my radar, though. That's something vitaloception doesn't do, unfortunately. Venenireception, though—" okay, I admit this is sounding more and more made-up—"can help with that."

"Okay..." Aware I sound way too unconvinced, I go on, "And what's venen... er..."

"Venenireception," he says for me with a wry smile, "is detection of magic. This one's a bit rarer."

"So..." I'm probably doing too much of the talking in all of this, but it seems to be helping him to remember I'm here. "If the island—or whoever's running it—is making The Rules work through magic..."

"Yes, that's the theory and the one that makes most sense. And those who need to kill each other are obviously connected by some magic. If I could check out all of the links, we would have been out of here by now."

"But you can't?"

He groans, rubbing his forehead. "No. Between whatever's making our unwatched things disappear, whatever's leeching away our immortality, and who knows what else, the island's just saturated in magic. I haven't sensed a lick of it since we got here, to be honest." He frowns, lowering his brows. "It's nasty, the sudden lack of all of this input. Like seeing too bright a light and going blind. I thought I'd recover enough to start to pick things out, but... No such luck thus far."

"Huh..." It's still outlandish, but definitely interesting. But even if it is true, it doesn't seem like it'll help us get off after all.

"So, that's been my plan," he says, getting back to his feet. "Ready to catch up with the others before they run off looking for food without us?" He extends a hand to help me up, and I take it.

"Yeah."

America is splayed out complaining of hunger, while China is drinking the last bit of rainwater from his wok. It doesn't take much persuading before we're all off food-hunting again. We end up a bit more spread-out, just in case some animals are around. I'm not sure how much good it does to get America's tramping away from the rest of us when we can't catch anything easily, but oh well. I can still find plants without them by my side, anyway. As long as I don't get lost, since they're not too likely to come looking for me...

I'm following some sort of little tracks in the mud when a smell I can't quite place meets me. I don't realize it's vodka until Russia's figure is in sight.

I immediately freeze up, but I'm able to slow my breathing once my brain's starting to work again. Come on, it's Russia. Just don't try to attack him, and he'll never find you.

I exhale silently, lean up against a tree, and close my eyes. I wait here a minute until I can't hear footsteps anymore. Ready to get going again, though I'm a little shaky still, I reopen my eyes.

Russia's are right in front of them.

"That's not a very good hiding spot."

I can't breathe, let alone move, until I finally sense the pipe appearing from behind him.

"H-Help!" I gasp too quietly, my limbs refusing to unlock themselves. "Amer—" Metal clangs against my head, and I go stumbling to the side before I'm finally able to run. And that's all I do. How did he see me? How does he still see me? And the mud's not stable enough, and, oh, my head hurts right now. I think it's bleeding. Owow...

I go on stumbling through the undergrowth as heavy footsteps and excited laughter pursue me. Please don't let him kill me; I don't know if I'll come back anymore! And how did he see me, how did he even see me?

I crash into a tree at the side and force myself back away, even though I can barely keep my feet straight and my head is throbbing more and more. But I can't die, I can't die...

"The hero has arrived!" Somehow he heard me after all. Good, oh, good—I can't keep running much longer, and I still don't have a weapon. I don't dare to stop, though, even as I hear another set of footsteps coming. When both sets stop, I slow and look behind me.

Russia's getting a hit in to America's head, but that's all he gets before the pipe is gripped hard enough to buckle in. It's ripped out of his hands and flung backward, smashing into a branch hard enough to bring it crashing to the ground. Russia comments on how exciting this is becoming before he dashes after his weapon. America proceeds to clothesline him.

"And here's what happens when you hurt the hero's brother!" Before Russia can recover from the last hit, America seizes his head and wrenches it around so hard the skin rips and the bloody tips of the vertebrae show. For good measure, he then hurls the body a good thirty meters away.

"And so the good guys triumph once again!" he announces, putting his arms akimbo before he turns around to come get me. He rips off some of his shirt for bandages and, with me putting some of my weight on him, starts to lead me back to the others.

But I can't feel too relieved. Everything's just too wrong. Everyone's been noticing me, _Russia_ of all nations saw me... This isn't right. What's going on? I thought I would like being noticed more, but not like this. Not when every little change seems like we're losing more of our immortality. Because, in this context... The only good explanation for my suddenly being visible is I'm no longer Canada... Just Matthew...

I force myself to push these thoughts far away before I can go into total hysterics.


	24. Into the Danger Zone

Author's Note: Hahaa, and with all of the lovely reviews, we've passed the review count of another one of my stories! Now we just need to catch up with the biggest one, with... 448 reviews. Time to get cracking.

And, as requested, here's a bit more of the timeline:

At the end of day five, France killed Canada and China.

On day six, Switzerland killed Hungary, Austria, and France and went home; and America killed Japan.

On day seven, it rained, Lithuania killed Poland and went home, and America killed Russia.

Thanks for reading, and for everything else!

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><p><em>Italy<em>

By lunchtime, the rain's stopped enough we can start looking for food again. It was really, really nice getting tomatoes to eat yesterday, but I'm still hungry. And Romano's hungry, too. I hope we find something yummy today.

My brother and I are sort of at the front, since the mud's kinda sticky and keeps trying to tug Spain's sandals off. Romano's pretty much just looking for more tomatoes, but I'm checking out everything. I wonder if there are any strawberry bushes around here? Japan's probably eaten all of them off that one by now, but...

Is Japan okay? I haven't seen him in a long time. Maybe he finally made it home? I hope so! I want him to be okay, and I don't want him to keep killing everybody, so... Mmm-hmm! I hope he's back home!

I trot ahead, looking through all the bushes in case they're hiding food from me. None of these are, I guess, so I move to the next group. I end up sticking my head in between the branches to get a better look, but when I try to come back out, I can't.

"Aah!" I start flailing, just in case it helps somehow. "Help! Romano! It hurts!" Branches scratch at my face as I try to get out again, and I start to wonder if it would let me go if I start waving a white flag. Before I'm able to act on this, hands start tugging on my shoulders.

"You idiot!" Romano growls, pausing for a second before pulling harder.

"Ow, ow, ow!" The branches are still scraping my face, and some of them are caught in my hair.

"Urgh!" Romano tries a final heave, and I'm freed at last. We end up going flying backwards a little, and we tumble onto some mud and more grass. My brother swears at me until I realize my knee ended up in his face, and I roll back off, rubbing at the little scrapes on my cheeks. O-ow... And I didn't even find food after that...

I sit back up, getting some twigs out of my hair, and freeze at what I see.

"Big Brother France!" Stumbling over my feet, I get up and run over to him. He's just collapsed on the ground, face-up, and there's a lot of blood, and are those bullet holes? "France! Are you okay?" I nudge at his shoulder, but he doesn't do anything. "Big Brother France?"

By the time I'm really starting to cry, Romano and Spain have caught up.

"What happened here?" starts Spain, raising his eyebrows and he lowers himself to get a better look. My brother hangs back, frowning.

"I-I don't know," I whimper. "Is he going to be okay?"

Spain feels the inside of France's elbow. "Well, he doesn't have a pulse."

A little high-pitched sound leaves my throat.

"But I'm sure he'll recover," Spain adds quickly, turning to smile at me. "If you really want, we can hang around until he starts to heal."

"_I_ want us to go get food," my brother grumbles, staring at France disapprovingly.

Spain laughs a little. "Uh... I guess we could just take him with us as we're looking?"

"Let's do that." I sniffle.

"Why?" Romano bursts out. "So when he wakes up he'll be right there to... do his dumbass France things?"

"But we can't just leave him here!" I say, looking up at him pleadingly.

Romano opens his mouth to say something else, but Spain waves him off. "Come on, Romano—the more we fight, the less time we have to get food, eh? Besides, if we keep an eye on him, maybe he'll tag along when he wakes up. The bigger our group, the better—for our situation, right?"

My brother huffs, crossing his arms. "We want more people to fight, so we're bringing along _France. _Fucking genius."

"Aw, lighten up! It'll be more fun with more of us, too." Spain, pretty settled on his decision, starts to carefully pick France up off the ground. "The guy is pretty heavy, though, ha." He struggles for a second more before finally getting France over his shoulder. In the process, something falls off him.

"What the hell is that?" my brother starts, leaning so he can see.

Still on my knees, I shuffle over and carefully pick it up. "It looks familiar..." I pull at part of it, and the sudden screech of metal makes me jump backwards and take cover.

Spain bursts out laughing. "It's not going to attack you on its own, Italy."

"R-right..." I creep back toward it. It's some sort of sword, but where have I seen it before...? "Oh!" I start suddenly. "It's Japan's sword, isn't it?" I check it out again and feel pretty sure about it.

"Must be," says Spain. "But would one of you guys hold it?" He grins weakly, nodding at the shoulder with France on it. "I'm loaded up about as much as I can take."

"Sure!" I look at the weapon for another second before sliding it back into its holder-thingy and picking it up. It's kinda heavy for something so thin.

Romano's already drifting away, investigating leaves. "Uh," he starts after a minute, "why exactly did France have Japan's sword?"

"Huh..." Spain blinks. "I have no idea! Funny, isn't it?" Romano rolls his eyes, and I tag along beside him checking the bushes.

"Wait," I start, starting to get worried again. "You don't think Japan attacked him, do you?"

"Huh?" Spain shifts him over his shoulder. "Well... That would still mean he left his sword behind. Seems kind of weird." He pauses. "And it's also kind of weird he's on his own, too."

My brother mutters, "Not that surprising."

Spain shrugs as much as he can. "We'll just have to ask him what happened when he wakes up!"

We go back to not talking for a while as we search for more food. We keep looking and taking breaks and looking and taking breaks, but all we find are a few bugs that are too icky for me to eat and some berries that are too sour for me to eat. Eventually, Spain stops to let us know France's heart is beating. I have to check it myself, just in case, but it really is pounding. So he's definitely going to be okay. He's going to be okay, and we're all going to be okay...

We keep stepping through the leaves, and I can't believe it's only been a little bit since noon. Or maybe the sun just isn't moving very fast today, because we're already so tired, and it can't still be afternoon, it can't. Everything just takes so long, and I don't even know how long we've been here anymore. I hope Germany finds us soon. I'm tired and hungry and burning up and scared and I really want to go home.

I'm sorta leading the way when I see somebody in the distance. I'm too tired to think of running right off the bat, so I walk forward a little bit as whoever it is draws closer. And then I realize who it is and then I freeze. My brother runs into me and starts swearing before I can turn towards everybody.

"Run!" I start, pushing them backwards and checking over my shoulder again. "He's coming!"

"Who is?" Spain looks over my shoulder, while Romano swears and turns to bolt.

"I said run!" I respond hysterically, turning Spain around and pushing him more.

He starts to stumble but gains his feet. "Okay, okay, I'm running!" He goes for a second, and I take a few shaky steps backwards. I look over my shoulder again to see how close he's getting.

"Italy!" Spain's stopped. "What are you doing, standing—"

"Just run, just run, just run!" I wail. He takes a few hesitant steps. "I'll catch up, okay? Run!" He's still really confused, but he goes anyway.

I swallow hard, turn around, and make myself hurry that way. I can't let him see them, and he won't hurt me... But what if he does, anyway? I start to freeze up but make myself keep going even though I'm crying a little. It'll be okay, it'll be okay; I just have to keep him away from them, and it'll be okay... I'm able to take a few more shaky steps before he sees me.

"Ah—Italy!"

I try to look less scared, but I don't think it's working. "H-hi, Japan!"

He dashes the last of the distance between us and comes up to me panting. "Have you been doing all right?"

"U-u-um... Yes. No?" He's not trying to hurt me yet, but I have to keep talking to him so he won't find them, and how do I do that?

"Erm, okay. Just... hungry, right? Nothing horrible has happened to you?"

"N-no..." And it starts to hit me that I'm not doing a really good job of talking a lot to keep him busy.

"That's a relief." His eyes scan the area behind me, and I panic and start to get in the way. He draws back, a bit surprised.

"So, um, I take it you never found your brother?" he says.

I try not to jump. "No! No, I never did! I didn't find him, and I didn't find anybody else, and I've just been walking around lonely and hungry and kinda scared, a-and I never found anybody."

Japan looks at me quizzically for a minute, and I start to get cold even though it's still really hot. Please don't catch me lying, please don't...

"Italy..." He sighs, closing his eyes for a second. "You don't need to be scared of me, all right? I have no reason to hurt you. Please, just calm down a bit."

"U-uh, okay!" I hesitate, not sure what I'm supposed to say next. There just ends up being a really uncomfortable silence.

Japan gasps so suddenly it makes me jump. "Is... Is that my sword?"

"N-no?" I realize I'm still carrying it and look down. "Oh, uh, yeah, I guess it is! Yeah, it's your sword."

He shakes his head. "Just... Where on earth did you find that?"

"Where did I find it? Uh, it was on the ground! Just sitting on the ground. Uh, it looked lonely, so I took it."

"The ground," he echoes. He pauses for a minute, brows drawn together a little. "...I don't suppose you ran into France?"

"N-no, n-no, not at all!" My voice is getting really high-pitched, so I try to bring it down. "No, like I said, I haven't run into anybody, and I just found this on the ground..."

"Hm." For a second I think he's definitely onto me, and I try to think of something else to tell him so we can keep talking, but he says something first. "Would it be all right with you if I were to take this back?"

"Huh? Back?" I look at the sword for a minute before I can completely figure out what he just said.

"Ah, yes, if I may. It _is _mine, and... don't you still have that knife to use?"

I pause before shuffling through one of Germany's inner pockets. "Oh, yeah! I completely forgot about that..."

"Right. So whatever you would need the katana for, you can use the knife for, right?"

I feel like I"m being tricked, but I don't know how. "I guess..."

"So it's really of far more use to me than you, don't you think? Wouldn't it be better for me to have it?"

"Yes...?" I look at the sword and hesitate. But if I give him this back, he could definitely hurt Romano and Big Brother France and Spain and anybody and maybe me... But he'll probably hurt me more if I don't give it to him... Ohh...

I'm still sort of staring at the sheath as I slowly turn it over to him. "Yeah, you can have it back."

He takes it and bows a little bit. "Thank you very much, Italy." He secures it around his waist and pauses, looking back at me. "You know... If this makes you feel less safe, you may come along with me again. Since you haven't had luck tracking down your brother, and there seem to still be quite a few on the island, you'd be safer if we teamed up again. You're my friend, and I don't want you to get hurt if I can so easily avoid it."

I don't say anything for a minute. A little longer for Romano and Spain to get away. But it's been a while, right? They should be all right by now...

"I... I'm sorry, Japan. I don't want to. I'm going to keep looking for him." I hold my breath.

Japan sighs. "Okay. I won't force you." He brushes some hair out of his eyes. "It's been good to see you doing all right. Be careful, okay?"

"Okay. U-um, bye, then."

He nods. "Goodbye." Then he sidesteps me and starts to go in the direction my brother and Spain ran to.

"No, don't go that way!" I start, jumping in front of him hurriedly. He gives me an odd look, and I try to come up with a good excuse. "Um... I just peed over there!"

The look he's giving me doesn't change, but he eventually shakes his head, turns, and starts to go in a different direction. "Goodbye, then, Italy."

"Bye..." I watch until I can't see him anymore. He's gone now. And he's not going toward my brother or Spain or Big Brother France, and he's not going to hurt them. And he didn't hurt me, either. It'll all be okay...

For a second I forget which direction I have to go, but I eventually pick it back up. Hoping they didn't get too far away, I start walking.


	25. Forsaken our Promises

Author's Note: Yeah, I admit the timeline gets pretty confusing, especially when nations count the days differently. Them showing up in the middle of a day sort of throws things off, but I'll keep you informed periodically.

So, time to read. And fork over the reviews. Yea, you heard me. Hand 'em over, or I'll call in Italy's mafia. (Not to be confused with the Italian mafia. Italy's are much weaker, unarmed, and will probably flee if you give them a discontented look. But they can still be scary if they try. I think.)

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><p><em>Japan<em>

I finish off the meagre handful of nutmeats before I head off again. I'm really no less hungry after that, but I have to keep moving. I have no time to spare, especially when there seem to be signs of our immortality draining away already. It took me a while to come back after being shot, and the subsequent times I've been killed seem to have taken a bit longer. I don't know just how much time I have before we stop coming back altogether, so I need to find my nation as soon as possible.

I'm not planning to break my promise with America and check China off the list anytime soon, but I still think I'm close to others. Unless other aspects of the island are changing as well, my katana was left behind rather recently. France must be nearby. Or, whoever really took my sword and killed China—ah, and Canada. I still doubt France would do that, but it's hard to say exactly what any of us would do in a situation desperate as this. I'm glad he's taking some action to get home, if he is.

But my first concern is finding him. There are no clear tracks in the vicinity since the ground has better cover here, but the mud starts back again not too far away. When I get there to observe it, there's a whole muddle of prints. A large group? Or maybe just Italy running back and forth. I can't tell. In whatever case, I keep near them, keeping an eye out.

How is Italy doing? It's only been a few hours since I saw him, but I'm sure he could have gotten in any sort of trouble since then. And... was he even okay when I saw him? He seemed worried about something, other than fear of me, but... he acts so erratically it's hard to judge what he's thinking...

Hopefully things will work out for him. And he'll decide to kill while he still has the chance. As will everyone else. But I can't control them. I can only do what I have to do to ensure my own well-being and that of my people.

The light's only starting to dim, since it's still not that late in the evening, but I still keep a careful eye out. I believe I'm approaching one of the spots I put a trap. Since I can't be everywhere on the island, I decided to set up a few to keep some of the nations more stationary. I only formed this idea a few minutes after leaving the fractured Allies group, but I've produced a few since then. Of course, I've only been able to set up a few so far, since I can't just put them all in the same place, but I'll make progress. I'll have to keep careful track of them and check frequently so anyone captured won't have time to escape, but I'm confident in this approach.

I have to give myself a break and suck out what little rainwater remains in my shirt. It's frustrating how tired I am already. But I haven't had much water, I've had even less food, and my head is still pounding from America's assault. My brain doesn't seem to have any real damage at this point, but there's still healing to be done in that area. My jaw's still a bit injured as well. I seem much more beaten than I should be, quite honestly. Normally the fatal wound is almost finished healing when I regain consciousness, and other wounds around at the time only a bit behind. It's probably another effect of the immortality drain. But there's nothing I can change about that. As long as I don't allow the pain to cripple me when it matters, it's not important.

I've only resumed my trek for a few minutes when I hear voices. Pulse picking up, I remove my sword and draw closer to the sound. I still can't see any figures, but I start to pick out words. "Alive," "your own feet," some low-toned muttering.

The sudden loudness and clarity of the next word makes me jump. "Italy!" Spain's voice. Good, I've yet to kill him.

I continue to draw closer, wishing I could see exactly where he and the one he's talking to is.

"Still no sign of him, huh? You don't think he was just trying to get away from us, do you?"

"Damned if I know."

Spain and Romano. So Italy had found them. He was just lying through his teeth in hopes I would leave them alone... Oh, Italy. It's much safer for them if I kill them now.

I'm finally able to see one of them when he screams in high pitch, zipping into the air as a snare takes him. From the quite loud and panicked swearing, I'll assume the first to find my trap is Romano. Spain makes an exclamation and hurries to set him free, but he can't quite reach where both of Romano's ankles are bound. I keep moving as Spain starts to circle the other nation to get a better look at the situation, and...

_Snap!_ He goes up with a startled sound, just one of his feet actually caught in the snare neighboring Romano's. This is working out incredibly well. Perhaps I'll have to set up the rest in pairs as well. But that's a job for another day!

I almost close the gap between us before I realize they're not the only two nations there. Sort of off to the side, not looking quite in a coherent state of mind, France leans against a small tree and watches blankly. He stays that way for a moment, idly picking at the bloody bullet holes in his shirt, until I swoop in. He drops to the ground, throat gaping open.

He certainly didn't seem capable of fleeing, but I can't be too careful. I doubt I would have gotten much speech from him if I asked, anyway. And there's just not enough time to fuss with politeness any more. I can apologize when we're back home.

I dare to spend enough time to ensure he wasn't my nation before I turn to the other two. Spain sort of freezes, while Romano flails around screaming bloody murder and roaring for Spain to do something. I get a step towards them before there's suddenly more yelling to my side. I don't get enough time to see if it's friend or enemy before I'm tackled.

It's not enough to knock me off-balance, and I start to realize it's really more like a hug. Add the sobbing into my chest, and it doesn't take much effort to figure out who it is.

I try to gently wriggle out of Italy's grasp, but he won't let me. Gathering my patience, I look down at the hunched form clinging to me. "Italy. Please let me go."

"Nnn-nnn." He shakes his head for a minute before he can finally look up at me. It's still a struggle for him to get words out. "J-Japan... why would you do that? Big Brother France... I made Spain bring him with us so I could s-see him okay, a-and you... You just..."

"Italy, he's going to be fine in a day or two. Now, please let me go." On top of having to hurry in my quest, I'm really starting to feel uncomfortable from this contact.

"No!" He takes a second to sniffle. "Then you kill Romano and Spain, t-too! And I don't even know if they'd come back, a-and I don't know if Big Brother France will come back, a-and, a-and..."

"The sooner I kill them, the safer it will be for them."

"It's safer if you _don't _kill them!"

I glance over at the other two. Romano's trying to figure out a way to slip one of his feet out, but both are still trapped, for now. I'm not sure if those vines are strong enough to keep for long. Another squirm on my part proves Italy still doesn't want to let me go.

I close my eyes. "Italy. I am going to kill them no matter what you do. Please let me go. Quickly."

"Nuh-uh!" He's shaking so hard I'm not sure how I can't escape easily. "I can't let you h-hurt them... I won't let you go... Not until they're safe..."

My hand tenses around the katana hilt. "Italy, please let me go or I will have to resort to force."

The tenseness of his body doubles, and he looks up at me again. "No, you wouldn't hurt me. We're friends, Japan... Friends don't hurt each other..." He smiles feebly.

"I won't hurt you if I have any other choice," I respond. "But if you force me, I will do what I must." I look over and realize Spain has started to swing himself back and forth, and he's making far too much progress. "Italy, let me go."

He meets my gaze sobbing but, be it from determination or paralysis of fear, he doesn't let go. "Pl-lease don't hurt me! You're not supposed to hurt me... You're not s-supposed to hurt them..."

I silently give him a moment longer to comply before giving up on him. Since most of my arm is restrained, the best I can do is a stab into his side. With a sharp cry, he crumples, and I waste no more time in watching him. Stepping swiftly, I target Spain first. His snare is close to tearing, but he hasn't made it to any branches. All I have to do is wait for him to swing back towards the ground. He tries to duck out of the way, but there's only so much maneuvering he can do. I slice his jugular open and check Romano.

From the sudden silence on his part, I almost thought he had gotten away, but he's still there, frozen, tears sliding up the face reddened by his inversion. Once he catches me looking at him and—after I'm sure Spain's dead—coming towards him, he regains his voice. After a few weak but frantic "back off"s, he starts struggling and manages to get in a punch to my face before I slash his neck open as well.

"Bastard!" he screams, struggling for breath but not dead yet. "How fucking dare you kill him, how fucking dare you kill me, and what the hell did you... do to my brother, you... fucking... monster...!" After another struggling breath, he goes limp.

I wait a minute. He's as dead as he's going to get. I'm still not home.

Feeling tense, I flick some blood off my katana and wipe the rest off. Replacing it in its sheath quickly, I turn back toward Italy and hurry over. The way he's curled up, I'm not sure he even saw what happened. Of course, he has a rather distracting wound in his side. It shouldn't be lethal, but it's bleeding a lot. What's become of my shirt won't be good for bandages... Perhaps the ends of my pant legs will do?

I sit down behind Italy and start cutting away the fabric. But once I try to pull away the soaked part of his shirt, he suddenly spins away from me.

"Ah... I'm sorry; that must have hurt too much." I scoot closer. "But it will be better for you if we patch this up now, all right?" I reach over to try again, but he pivots before I make contact.

"Italy..." I put my hand back on my knee and sigh. "I'm sorry I had to hurt you, all right? But now you don't have to worry about me killing them after their immortality is gone, and I'm trying to help you with your side..." Thinking I hear a response, I trail off. I'm not sure if he's saying anything, through all of the crying. I'm not even completely sure he heard me just now.

"Just stay still for a minute," I finish quietly. "I'll patch you up, and we can forget about it."

I pause when he says something, but I can't quite make it out. "What was that?"

He struggles to take in a decent breath, and I swear it sounds like he says, "Go away." Before I can ask him to repeat, he does.

"Go away. Go away, go away, go away." He doesn't quite stop there, but the sobbing overtakes him enough for his words to lose enunciation.

"Italy," I start, but I don't know what to say next. "...I had no other option but to do that to you, and I'm trying to fix it—"

"Go away...! Go away!" He curls up further and inhales shakily, bursting out:

"_I hate you!_"

Struck silent, I just watch him for a minute as he dares a glance back at his companions and completely breaks down into quaking sobs. I don't think there's anything left for me to say to make him see sense. And it's clear he doesn't want me to stay around, either.

Without a sound, I stand and walk toward the two snares. It takes a bit of jumping, but I cut the two free, carefully prop them on trees near France, and wipe the blood from their necks and faces. I clean off France, too, and set him so that he seems to be slouched against a tree napping.

Though I doubt he'll do what he should with it, I take the relatively clean strips of fabric I cut from my suit and set them by Italy's side. A goodbye pauses at my lips. I don't think he wants to hear another word from me.

So I disappear without another sound.


	26. Have Some Sympathy

Author's Note: BWAAAAAA REVIIIIIEEEEEEEWS

I can't _believe_ how much I suddenly got since the last update. Maybe I should always wait this long between chapters... Kidding. I'll try to pick up the pace again.

And I love anonymous/non-user reviews, too! Love, love, love. And we've suddenly hit and passed 300, and 100 story alerts, and just AAAAAAHHHHH. *hugs you all*

So keep it up, pwease~! (That's as creative as I'm getting this A/N, sorry.)

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><p><em>Austria<em>

If it weren't for my watch, I would have lost track of the days. But this tells me it's 9:48 on Sunday the twenty-fourth. We've been here since the latter half of the sixteenth. A week and a day. That would seem like far too long if I discounted my physical condition; however, it's rather difficult to do that. My clothes and limbs are getting more scratches by the minute, my stomach's ready to cave in on itself from lack of food—let alone proper cuisine—and there's such an unbearable decay in my energy and cleanliness I'm not sure how much longer I can stand it.

We have been planning to get out of here, of course, but we haven't had much luck in any strategy. We set up an "SOS" at one of the beaches, but no one seems to have found us yet. A while later, we finally decided to go on the offensive in accordance with The Rules, but we haven't fared well at that, either. The nations seem to be as sparse as the food sources; we've only caught sight of them thrice since we met. Only Hungary killed Russia since that was more a matter of simple revenge, and we didn't attack the Allies group when we found them, for more strategic reasons. I'm sure Hungary could take out the lot of them, but if she ends up "going home" in the middle of things, I'm in trouble. And I swear, if I end up soaking the rest of my nice outfit with blood...

Then again, I suppose it probably can't be helped. The others are after us, too, as evidenced by Switzerland. Hungary's still willing to watch my back, but, once again, if she goes home first, I'm in trouble. I don't even have a weapon, other than a somewhat pointed branch. Not exactly a sword. I'll just hope I get lucky. And if I'm not, I suppose I'll just have to grit my teeth and keep going.

With a sigh, I continue to follow Hungary through the foul-smelling brush as the day starts to heat up. I feel like we've already come this way, but I've been wrong about these things before...

I somehow manage to snag on a branch what little remains of the bottom of my right pants leg. I'm too busy trying to get it back out to detect what Hungary's apparently found. She gasps, her footsteps hurrying forward, before I'm able to go after her.

"Po...!" She trails off, lowering herself to Poland's side and examining his neck before she starts to calm down. "I... guess that's where the reek's been coming from over here, then..." She exhales.

"The whole island's starting to smell this way to me, quite honestly," I comment almost to myself, stepping closer but not by much.

"He looks horrible..." She bites her lip and checks for a pulse. "He must be just on the edge of coming back."

As my stomach starts to act unfavorably from the smell, she makes a sound and says, "I don't think I've ever seen a nation in this condition." She starts to get back to her feet. "It must just be because it's so hot and humid out here..." Her look falters before she shakes her head. "Yeah, that has to be it..."

She doesn't have to say it aloud for me to figure out what else she's thinking. That maybe our immortality has already come to an end somehow, and he's not coming back at all. But then she and I would have to honestly kill other nations to get home, and there could well be others dead at the moment... That would cause so many problems I can't even let myself think on it too long.

"I'm sure that's the case," I start. "Even though we come back, we're just as vulnerable to the environment as humans while we're 'dead'."

She doesn't move her gaze from him. "Yeah." A slow exhale. "Yeah." She faces me with a weak smile. "Sorry—it's just hard not to worry in a situation like this."

"Completely understandable. Anyone that knows about this ordeal has to be worried by now."

She nods and starts to turn her attention back to the trees. "Let's go ahead and get back to looking, then... Ah!" She takes a few steps towards a nearby tree. "Do those look edible to you?"

I follow her and examine the lowest tendril of nuts. "Certainly. It appears some of them have been eaten already." Pistachios, hm? I wonder if this tree could be Iranian in origin... But now's no time to be picky. And wild ones are sure to be of poorer taste, anyway.

I've only picked a few when I start to think the branches are shaking a bit too much for the thin wind. I quietly point this out to Hungary. She looks up into the leaves and replies, "Do you think something's in there?"

The tree squeaks.

"...More so now than before."

Hungary stashes some of the nuts before calling, "Who's in there?" The only response is a stronger rattling of the tree.

She and I exchange a glance. "Must be Latvia," we decide in unison.

He finally dares to show his face, though he stays fairly high up in the tree. "H-h-h-h-hi!" he starts, still shaking enough to rattle the whole tree. "P-please don't h-hurt me! U-u-um, Estonia's here, too!"

"_Latvia_!" comes a cry shortly before a defeated-looking Estonia surfaces near the other Baltic. "I know you say dumb things when you're scared, but do you have to give me away every time?"

Latvia stammers. "I-I thought maybe if they knew there were m-more of us, they would leave us alone?"

"Sorry for interrupting," I finally start. "But is Lithuania in there, too?"

Estonia shuffles out of the branches a bit more. "N-no, actually. He's off the island."

"What?" Hungary responds.

Tentatively, the two Baltics start to outline their story. They finish by showing us the agenda for the meeting, with four sections faded. Hungary flips back and forth between the pages. "Four already, huh? Can't decide if that's too many or not enough." She hands the paper back over. "Thanks."

"No problem..." Estonia, who has since climbed down to speak with us, puts it back in his briefcase. Ravis is also at ground level, though he's almost hiding behind the tree. The jacket in his hands is somehow clattering as he quivers.

Hungary leans to look back at him. "Relax." She hesitates. "We're not going to kill you."

"R-really?" Latvia starts, drawing the slightest bit closer.

I look at Hungary. We finally found a small enough group, and we're not going to take the offensive after all?

Hungary, feeling my gaze, turns her head towards me. "I know I said we'd go after people, but thanks to them, we know for sure we could get out that way, and they're letting us eat some of their food." She drops her voice and grins. "And they wouldn't be that fun to fight, anyway."

"And," adds Estonia, "there's not that high a chance one of you would have to kill either of us, so it's not much of a risk."

I stand silently for a minute, watching the three of them. Then finally I say, "All right. But..." I nod at the jacket Latvia's holding. "Is that Belarus's?"

"Huh?" Latvia looks at it in confusion, apparently having forgotten he was holding it. "Oh... Yeah, it is."

"If you don't mind, could we also have one or two of the knives?" I request. Latvia hesitates until Estonia sighs and gives him the thumbs-up. Then he carefully shuffles through the pockets and pulls out one knife. Hungary takes it and hands it to me, and the same happens with the second knife.

"One for fighting and one for food?" she asks as I carefully stow them in my jacket pockets.

"Hopefully. Or one for both and a spare."

She shrugs. "Works for me." She adjusts her hairband and smiles at Latvia and Estonia. "Thanks for everything, you two. Good luck." As I gather one last round of pistachios, she takes a few steps away. Then she turns back to face them. "And keep an eye on Poland, all right? He'll get into all sorts of stupid stuff without Lithuania here to keep an eye on him."

Estonia glances over at the body just out of eyeshot from the tree. "Will do."

"All right." Hungary waves. "See you guys later, then."

"Bye!" Latvia and Estonia say. And then Hungary and I are off again. I'm hoping much more that we'll run into others now. Not only have we risked a bit in sparing them, I have a weapon of my own so I can kill with something other than a frying pan. I have no idea how that woman can swing that heavy thing around so much... But now we have a better plan available to us. She'll go in and take them down and, when they come back, I'll knife them. Not the most valiant fighting style, but I don't care much for that sort of thing anymore. I just want to go home already.

I continue to follow Hungary away from the tree—and most of the smell, thankfully. We don't get very lucky in finding more food, but we manage to find a clear enough pool of water to go with our pistachios.

The sun is well past its noon position when I start to hear someone. Apparently Hungary's caught it, too, since she's starting to slow. She looks back at me, and I nod, resting a hand on one of the knife handles. Withdrawing her frying pan, she creeps forward, careful of her footfalls. I follow just as carefully as the voice gradually becomes louder. I can't pick out the words since it's frantic mumbling, but it sounds like it's being repeated. And the voice... Hm... It sort of sounds like...

"Is that—" Hungary cuts off, abandoning her stealth to plow forward faster. "Italy!"

I hurry after her, letting the knife slide back into its pocket, and Italy finally comes into view. He's tugging desperately at some vine, telling it to come down, until he realizes he's not alone. After an initial moment of panicked flailing and procuring a white flag, he seems to register that it's us. Unsure, he slowly lowers the flag and, after a pause, collapses to the ground crying.

"Ah—!" Hungary and I close the distance between us and him, and Hungary puts a hand on his shoulder. "Italy. What's wrong?"

He stays curled up in a quivering, sobbing mass for a minute before he even tries to respond. Even then, he's only making a few inarticulate noises between gasps for breath.

I settle into a seated position on the mostly-dried mud beside him. "We can't do anything to help until we know what happened. Please try to calm down and regain your breath."

Hungary and I watch silently as he starts to recover a bit from the crying fit. In a way, just like old times, hm?

After a few more failures, Italy finally gets out Japan's name. "H-he... k-k-killed..." Another break for hysteric gasping. "...m-m-my brother, a-and... and B-Big Brother France, and Spain... A-and it's been more than a day and almost two days, and they're s-still not back even a little bit and I'm scared they're d-d-d-dead and I can't even keep the bugs off and they're dead, Japan killed them, and I'm never going to talk to them again and it's all my fault and they're dead and dead and dead—"

"Shh," Hungary interrupts, pulling him into a brief half-hug. She just repeats that sound for a little while. When she gives me a troubled glance, I realize she's not sure what else to say. If they've been dead for that long, his worries are completely founded. I'm not sure exactly how long one of us has ever stayed dead, but I can't recall anything longer than a day myself. If this time lapse is as unprecedented as it seems, we're in huge trouble. It could only mean our immortality is gone. But then... But then...

I close my eyes for a second, and Hungary finally starts to speak. "It's going to be all right, okay? They'll come back. They wouldn't leave you behind like that."

Italy's only response for a while is more sniveling, then: "B-but what if they don't, if they c-can't, a-and..." He breaks for a shaky gasp. "A-and it'd be all my fault because I gave Japan his sword back, and he killed them with it, and they're dead—"

"That wouldn't make it your fault," I interrupt sternly. "You were there to see him do it, were you not?" He nods rapidly. "If he was willing to risk killing them, he would have found a way to get it back from you then. If something does go wrong, there is no reason to blame yourself for it."

"But nothing's going to go that wrong," Hungary adds in hastily. Italy doesn't say anything, but his crying becomes a little softer. "Feeling a little better?" Hungary asks, gently letting go of his shoulder. He nods the tiniest bit.

"Wait," I start, noticing something. I scoot away from Italy a bit. Sure enough, that really is a wound in his side. I'm certain it's from Japan's sword, and it must have been fairly deep as its surface hasn't healed much. I point it out to Hungary, and she grunts.

"Italy, I'm going to check this out," she says, getting hold of the bottom of his shirt. "I'll have to lift some of your shirt, and it might hurt a little, so ready."

He only cringes a bit when she removes some of the stained-red cloth from the wound. "Has it been bleeding a lot since you got it?" she asks.

"Mmm-hmm. I-it keeps opening up again."

"Well," Hungary replies, reshuffling her legs to get comfortable, "let's at least bandage it to put some pressure on it."

"O-okay..." He holds out the flag he got out earlier. "You can use one of these..."

_One_ of them? I suppose that's to be expected of Italy. Though I have to wonder why he would see it necessary to have many on him at one time... I guess he's just as bad with those as Switzerland is with guns. Why do all of the really strange ones have to live right next to me...?

But that's an issue for another time. Right now, we need to worry about what to do with that wound... And what in the world we're going to do to get out of here, now that we can't be sure the next nation we kill won't die for good.

"Austria?"

"Hm?" I look up as Hungary apparently finishes tying up cloth around the cut.

"How about we stay with Italy for a while?"

I consider it for a moment. It's quite obvious by now Italy's not on our kill list. Nor is much of anyone, until we're sure about our deathlessness. And if we stay with him, we'll be able to keep track of France, Spain, and Romano, and that will be the best way to find out how our immortality is doing. Italy's sure to eat too much of our food, but we—well, maybe just Hungary, given my sense of direction—know where we can find some more. And I think he's had enough of being alone.

"All right." I stand, sweeping some of the soil off my backside. "As long as that's fine with Italy, of course."

Italy's still crying some, but he tentatively smiles. "It's okay with me."


	27. On My Way Home

Author's Note: Sorry for another lull in update time! Gosh, I'm getting bad about this. I just sort of got distracted since I _finally_ found _Battle Royale_ in a bookstore, so I've been giving a bit more attention to reading that lately... But I'm almost done there, so hopefully I'll be updating more here.

And here's another little snippet of the time line, for the confused:

On day seven, it rained, Lithuania killed Poland and went home, America killed Russia, and Japan killed France, Spain, and Romano.

No chapter has taken place on day eight.

On day nine, Austria and Hungary joined Italy. And we come in here that same day.

Thanks for all the reviews, guuuuys~! They make me happy, really happy, and also slightly guilty when I'm not updating often. Thus, reviews make me happy and also quicken updates, (hopefully) making you happy. It all works out rather well, don't you think~?

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><p><em>China<em>

I wonder if staying in this little alliance is really worth it. Half the reason I stuck around so long was because they had food, and that's not the case anymore. I still get a share of it when they find anything, but I also have to give them some of what I find. And to be honest, I don't really think they're finding enough to make it worth it.

The only other thing is protection. Japan promised not to come back and kill us, but would I lose that protection if I left them? And Russia, and probably a few others, would rather attack me if I'm alone. And I know Russia is still pretty close by, seeing as he's been in the same spot since America killed him.

Of course, in that respect, I don't have to worry about Russia much. I know it's been starting to take some time to come back, but two days? If our immortality's gone, I can't even risk getting killed, because I might just... not come back. And then, how am I supposed to kill the other nations, knowing _they_ wouldn't come back? They're definitely jerks and idiots, but that doesn't mean they deserve to disappear from the face of the planet. Just... Ngh.

I'll just hope that somehow taking so much longer doesn't mean we're doomed. I mean, we already started taking a little bit longer to come back, so it could just be slowing down a little more, right? But then how would we know when it really is gone?

Aiyah! Let's just hope I'll be long gone by then. That it's working out like that, and I go on to kill my nation, and I go home. Oh, home. I can't explain how much I want to go home. Go eat as much as I want, and not this junk island food either—real food, all kinds of it... And something to drink with it besides lukewarm, half-dirty water, and a nice, long, hot bath would be pretty nice, too... Oh, and I only left Gun-Gun a few days worth of bamboo, so the poor thing has to be starving! But I'm sure he'd crawl out of his basket and find more to eat. He's probably curled up on the floor sleeping right now. Ooh, I want to go give him a hug! I don't want to be here any more, I don't. I want to go back to my pandas and Shinatty and a Japan who's still kind of naive but isn't trying to _kill_ me and...

Please get me out of here...

With a sigh, I go back to scrutinizing the water around my shins. You would think there would be some sort of seafood out here, but there's been nothing but empty seawater so far.

I look out at the horizon. There are a few wispy clouds out, so I can just see the border between sea and sky. I wonder just how far out from other land we are. If we could swim there or raft there easily. Or walk there, considering how shallow the water is even way out here. But it's probably impossible. With The Rules and all.

There's suddenly a bunch of splashing and waves from my left, and I look to see America and Opium running further out from the shore, apparently in some sort of race.

"Opium!" I call before throwing a glance over my shoulder. "Aren't you supposed to be watching our clothes, aru?"

"It's fine!" he calls. And apparently it's too much trouble for him to elaborate since he just goes on running. Expecting me to pick up your slack, huh? Though it's not like I was finding much food, anyway...

I walk back towards the shore for a little bit before suddenly realizing Canada's there. He has our shirts, jackets, slacks, and footwear in careful piles and is using them as armrests. I guess that's why it was taken care of.

I think I've been doing a little better at keeping track of him, but he still sort of disappears from the radar every so often. I think we've all been doing a little better. A little too well for his tastes, apparently, since he kind of started freaking out about it. Of course, he managed to start with that about the time we stopped noticing him again... Ouch.

But now that I think about it, maybe his invisibility has been sort of fading, slowly. So our immortality would have to be going slowly, too, right? And maybe America's slowly losing his super strength, and... What would be happening to me, then? Just... slowly becoming less like me...? Oh, I don't like this idea all that much, either...

I go ahead and swish through the water a little more, more because it's nice and cool in the early afternoon heat than because I'm expecting to find anything. I'm starting to get thirsty. I should probably go get another wokful from the creek and get it boiling.

I announce this to the others and ask them to get a fire started for me so we don't have to wait as long. Seeing as Canada's occupied watching our clothes and Opium and America are too busy splashing/drowning each other, I'll probably have to get it ready myself again. Great teamwork, guys.

After putting some clothes and shoes back on, I grab my wok and head into the trees. Same route, more or less. I've been taking detours to check on Russia's condition, but it's gotten to smelling so bad I just sort of glance over to see if he's still there.

This time I don't see him.

Thinking maybe I looked in the wrong place, I draw a little closer. The smell's bad enough, and there's some blood and broken branches, but there's no Russia.

He's come back. He must have come back. We're still coming back. Phew...

So... I should probably track him down and kill him now, right? Make sure he's not my nation as soon as possible? And I'm sure I'd come out on top, especially since Canada ended up with the pipe. It's kind of mean to pick on someone defenseless, but I have more pressing issues than valor.

I check out the area a little more to figure out which way he went. He either wasn't in great condition or wasn't feeling very stealthy, because there are plenty of snapped twigs and footprints to go off of. He didn't go back toward the fight, and his tracks actually go in just about the opposite direction from our camp. Maybe he wasn't so eager to pick a fight after all that.

I start to follow his path and suppress a little laugh. Ha, ha. I'm the one stalking Russia now.

Treading lightly, I eventually find him hunched over. I think he's got his fingers in the ground looking for roots or something. I should attack him now. But from a different side, since that branch blocks his head from my path at this angle.

I creep around—he's still oblivious—and swing for his head. He doesn't realize it in time to dodge, and the wok collides with his right temple with a bong. He's flung to the ground and rolls a little.

All right. One-hit kill? I hope not, because I'm sure not home yet...

I step over to where he ended up and pause for a second. Forget his pulse. It'd be better to just hit him again.

I've just started to raise my wok over my head when there's a blur of movement and a burst of pain across my face. Suddenly off-balance, I stagger back a little, putting a hand to my nose. The pressure makes me cringe, and my hand comes away with a little blood on it. Well, that answers the question as to whether he's dead or not.

I ready my weapon before I locate Russia again. He's squatted down, briefcase still swinging a little in his hand. There's still some blood around his neck from his last fight—it sort of looks like his neck's still a little twisted, too—but he's not bleeding from the side of his head. Not yet, anyway.

He springs up to whack me with his briefcase again, but my weapon's heavier and deflects it easily. While the case is still rebounding, I make another swipe for his head. He ducks to the side and, regaining control over his briefcase, pivots and swings it. I can't completely get out of the way, but it doesn't hit my shoulder hard enough to wreak any havoc. So I can get a hit in before he recovers, I have to aim a little lower. The wok crashes into his ribs, and he goes staggering further to my right. I swing for his head again, but he blocks it with the briefcase.

As he shifts his balance to counter the momentum, he laughs a little. "What a fun welcome-back party! How have you been doing since I was out?"

"Starving, aru. That's about—" the last word half-morphs into a battle shout as I spin to hit the other side of his head—"it!"

He sort of squeaks and ducks, but I still get a pretty solid hit to his skull before my wok slides back over his head. Before I finish swinging the pan back down on him, he's able to regain his balance and roll to the side. The far handle of the wok ends up hooking onto a branch, and by the time I rip it back, Russia's plenty recovered. Still close to the ground, he starts by ramming the bottom of the case right above my ankles. I only have to take a step back, but he pops back to his feet, snapping the briefcase up under my chin.

"Ugh!" My head whips back to the point he leaves my range of sight, but I still manage to block his next attack. Tilting my chin back down as the swishing sound in my head gets louder, I locate Russia again and swing. He ducks backward, and I just clip the tip of his nose. This throws him off-balance enough he has to do a lot of footwork to not fall over. By the time he's somewhat stable, I'm bringing around the wok again. He jumps back this time and then pounces forward, slamming the briefcase onto my crown. My knees buckle, but I swing blindly at him before they hit the ground. Judging from the sound—that last hit spotted out my vision a little bit—it hit somewhere.

Whatever happened, he's not attacking right now, so I take a second to catch my breath and wipe some of the blood off my lips and chin. This isn't going too smoothly after all, huh? Wasn't expecting the briefcase, though. But I can still fight. I'll get him dead within the next minute.

My vision clears enough to see Russia sitting up, one hand over his lower left ribs and the other clinging to the case's handle. He's slowly wobbling back onto his feet and not yet attacking. I bring my wok down onto his skull about the same way he just got me with the briefcase. He dodges just enough to get the pan in his face instead of on his hair. He still flops back onto the soil after the clang. His eyes are closed this time. I think it's safe enough now to just check his pulse.

He still has one. A little high, but not fading. He hasn't made another move, but I guess he's just unconscious. I'll have to hit him again. Tough guy, huh?

Deciding my arms are burning and quivering a little too much to deliver a good death blow on their own, I decide to have gravity do a little work, too. I raise the wok before putting weight back on my feet and pushing up quickly to stand.

A sudden rush of cool blood shoots into my head. Before I know what's happening, my vision goes dark and I feel like I'm falling.

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><p>Something's jostling me about. And there's some weird droning noise—oh. That's me groaning.<p>

It takes me a few more minutes of gaining my senses before I can see what's going on. I'm slung over America's shoulder and am being carried somewhere. Someone else—Opium, I think—is walking off to the side. And... yeah, I think Canada's here, too. Maybe.

I ask what's going on, but what comes out is so garbled I'm not even sure what it is.

"What?" My ears are sort of ringing, so I'm not sure whose voice it is.

"I said... what... happened, aru?"

"Well—" I'm pretty sure now it's Opium speaking—"we started to think you were taking a while, and then we heard shouting, so we came by. You were off sort of far, but we're almost back to camp now."

"Yeah...?" My lip itches from the blood, but my arms feel too heavy to bother scratching it. "What about Russia, aru? Did he ever die?"

"I dunno." America this time. "He looked kinda dead to me."

"And we won't be finding him anytime soon to check," Opium adds, "since America decided to throw him even farther away."

"What?" America responds. "You didn't say it was a bad idea when I did it!"

"I was clearly glaring at you."

"Well, yeah, but you do that anyway." He pauses for a second, while I start to make out the shore between the trunks. "Y'know, I bet you're just jealous of my awesome facial hair."

"Yes, how I'd love to have itchy, disorganized hair pointing out of my chin. If anyone's jealous, it should be you, since you'll look like a raggedy hick by the time we get out of here, while I'll still be perfectly clean-shaven."

Aiyah, are you guys arguing over this again? Some of us grow facial hair, and some of us don't—get over it... Ugh, my head feels like crap... Wonder if Russia's in the same boat. I guess I shouldn't really care if he's alive at this point. If he isn't, going after him and injuring myself was pointless, and if he is, I just lost my chance to see if he was the one I had to kill.

Guess I'll have to pick that up another day. Another day when I'm feeling better than this.


	28. Paranoia, the Destroyer

Author's Note: And the theme naming slips a little this chapter, whoops. Hopefully you'll forgive me.

And hopefully you'll review. That is a very... hope-... ridden-... inciting... thing. Yup. So go do it.

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><p><em>Spain<em>

There's a bunch of talking going on when I wake up. I still feel a little too weak to open my eyes, so I just lie—or maybe I'm sitting—here for a minute and listen.

"...on our way, if that's all right with you," says a female voice.

"Yeah, go ahead." Italy this time. "Thanks for staying with me for a little while."

"You're welcome. Now, if we may...?" Austria starts.

"Right." There are a few footfalls before Hungary's voice comes again. "Oh, and Italy?"

"Huh?"

Both pairs of footsteps have paused by now.

"If you want, the next time we run into Japan, we can get him back for you." Oh man, Hungary talking about fighting. She probably has an evil grin on about now.

The gap in conversation is long enough for a bird to suddenly chirp loudly.

"No? Are you sure?" Either I didn't hear Italy a second ago, or he shook his head. Maybe I should open my eyes sometime soon. But, urgh, not just yet...

"Yeah." I hear him this time. "I... I don't want to see his face again, but please don't hurt him."

"Okay," Hungary responds. "Stay safe, all right? Hopefully the next time we meet, it'll be off this island."

"All right. See you!"

The crunching of branches fades after a minute, leaving us in silence. I finally force my eyes open and look ahead blankly until my vision returns. Still in the woods, though that's not much of a surprise. Romano's slumped to my side, looking deep in sleep. The traps that caught us are gone, and the ground's dried up. How long have I been out? And did I wake up kind of early? Because I swear I can feel a little blood running down my neck...

"What's wrong, Big Brother France? You still haven't said anything."

I have to crane my neck to see where France is leaning against another trunk. Italy's right next to him, his lips quivering a little.

"Ah..." France's voice is so weak it's hard to pick up. He clears his throat. "I'm... fine. Just tired."

"Okay." Italy frowns at France's pale face. "It's good to see you sort of all right, though."

"You, too," France replies before exhaling and falling silent. He's not feeling too well, either, huh? I guess he went down before Romano and me, since he woke up earlier... Yeah, that sounds about right. Yeah, yeah, I saw that. He got his throat slashed open. Right.

I let my head clear a little more before I try to shift. I know it's normal to be tired, but I feel like I'm burning a little, too. After a second of investigation, I realize there are a good handful of little nicks and scratches on my arms and torso. That must be it, ow. But wounds that shallow'll be gone by the end of the day, even if it's already late afternoon. Or maybe early evening. I don't really feel like checking that much.

"Ah! Spain!" Italy finally looks away from France long enough to catch me with my eyes open. He hurries over and offers his hands to help me to my feet. "You're awake! Are you feeling sort of okay? Oh!" Now that I'm standing, his hands are free to go through his pockets. "And I think I still have a couple of nuts if you're hungry."

"Ah, no, no, not really," I respond. Actually, I feel a little nauseous for some reason. "I could go for some water, though, if you have any."

"Okay!" He takes his hands out of his trouser pockets and feels around the inside of Germany's jacket. "Um..." After a minute, he pulls out a beer bottle with some not-entirely-clear water in it. "Here you go!"

"Thanks." Of course, at this point, I don't really care what it looks like, as long as it's drinkable. Losing the majority of your blood tends to make you pretty freaking thirsty.

Hoping this isn't all of our water because I really can't restrain myself, I drain the bottle in seconds. I don't even really register what it tastes like—I just know it's supposed to be water and it feels wonderful going down my throat.

Italy takes the container back, and I wipe the water off my mouth. Starting to get a little fuzzy around there. Actually, it's less than I'd expect after not shaving for a week. But I've been dead for a good chunk of that. My body's had other priorities.

"I guess he's not awake yet," I start, "but Romano looks like he's coming back, too."

Italy nods cheerfully. "Yeah. I... was checking a lot."

I look over my shoulder at Romano. He doesn't look any different. I wonder if he honestly fell asleep after coming back to life. I'm not sure why, but the thought makes me smile a little. Let him sleep. If he's as tired as me, he deserves a little rest.

After a glance at France—who's just watching us silently—I turn back to Italy. "So, what were Austria and Hungary doing?" Talking's starting to make my throat feel dry again. But I'd feel kind of bad about asking for more of our limited amount of water. I really hope it rains soon.

"Oh, they just kind of ran into me. And then they decided to stay a little bit because I was kinda really freaking out about you guys... And then France started to wake up, and Austria decided they would leave."

"Aha." I lean back against the tree and shut my eyes for a second. "Hey, France, I know you're drained, but talking's really not that much of an effort." Not that I'm used to all that much casual chatting with him, but we still haven't found out how he got to that neck of the woods with a bunch of gunshot wounds. Well, the wounds are pretty obvious given Switzerland's on the island, but it'd be nice to find out the rest of the story.

"Hm." France blinks, his eyes a little more focused on us now, and takes a deep breath. "So... I don't have a weapon anymore." Interesting way to start a conversation. Hope he's doing all right in there...

"Uh-uh," Italy says, looking down for a second. "Oh—wait!" He pops up suddenly and shuffles through his jacket. It takes him a minute to figure out which pocket he needs, but he ends up pulling out a knife. From what I've seen at previous meetings, I think it's Belarus's.

"I keep forgetting about this, anyway," he says, offering it to France.

France stares at it for a minute, frozen.

"Big Brother France?" Italy calls, looking concerned.

"Ah..." France finally starts to reach up for it, as he meets Italy's gaze and gives a sort of stressed smile. "Thanks." His hands shake a little as he receives the blade and slips it under his belt. He takes another deep breath. "Hopefully I won't have to use it."

Italy nods.

"So," I start, putting my hands behind my neck. "Now that you feel a little more like talking... What exactly led to you being alone with gunshot wounds and Japan's sword?"

"Oh..." A weak laugh. "I guess that does seem pretty weird..." He looks off to his side. "Well... After Russia attacked Hungary, I ended up running off with the rest of the usual group. And we fended for ourselves for a little while all right. America had some food with him." He pauses for a minute, looking back in our general direction. "Then things got sort of chaotic when Japan attacked us. We split up a little bit, and Japan ended up attacking America and me. America took care of him, and decided to disarm him. He gave the sword to me since he figured he could easily go without it."

He pauses for another minute, looking up into the branches. "And then... A while after we went to find the others, we ran into Russia. We ran, but then America decided to fight, but I didn't really realize it in time and kept going for a while. By the time I slowed down, I had lost all sense of direction, and I ended up wandering over to where Switzerland must have been hiding out." He rolls his shoulders back. "And then I woke up with you guys, and you know what happened from there."

"That sounded scary," Italy says, some tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

"Very scary," France sighs.

Haha... I guess it must be scarier worrying about running from them, because I got killed by both, and it really wasn't too bad. Well, aside from all the headaches and blood loss and such.

"How about we don't think about it too much more, then?" I say, slapping the two on the shoulders.

"O-okay!" Italy pulls away from my hand a little bit. "Maybe when Romano wakes up, we can go back to a shore and splash around." He freezes. "He is waking up, right?" He rushes over to check before I can say anything, but he's instantly relieved when he sees his brother breathing.

"Didn't we just do that yesterday?" I pause. "Oh, right. How long's it been, anyway?"

Italy walks back over to France and me. "You were gone for two days."

"Yow!" I actually jump a little in surprise. "That long, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Huh! No wonder you've been so worried!" I stand with arms akimbo, looking around in case someone's trying to sneak up on us. "It's all right now, though, okay? We're still coming back, and I'm sure we'll keep coming for a long while yet."

Italy sniffles and nods.

"So, if Romano ever wakes up—" I'm careful to make my voice sound extra-joking—"we'll go off to the shore." I half-sniff my shoulder. "And wash off, phew. Dead for two days isn't the best cologne." It's kind of weird I hadn't really noticed before. Maybe my nose has been a little numb. Not that that's a bad thing in this case.

"Yeah, washing off would be nice," Italy says.

I snicker a little. "You know, you're allowed to say we stink."

Italy laughs, and France smiles and shakes his head. I exhale a last little laugh and look back over at Romano. I guess it's still only been a couple of minutes. He won't be waking up for a while yet.

"Well," France starts, looking a little more back to normal, "I've told my story. What have you all been doing since we ended up here?"

I end up detailing my and Romano's escapades before we found Italy. Basically, looking for food. Not too interesting. When I get to where Italy found us, I tell Italy to go ahead with how he ended up that far. I've already heard it, but I'm sure he could tell it better.

About the time he gets to his fleeing from Russia, I hear something outside our group. Interrupting, I put up a hand and say, "Hang on."

Italy closes his mouth, looking at me curiously.

"I think I heard something." I turn towards where I think I heard it and take a few steps that way, by the bushes. There are a few more shuffles of leaves and branches and some panting, but it's further along to the left.

I crane my neck to see Italy, who's started quivering. "Don't worry," I say quietly. "I think they're passing us."

There's a yelp, and the rest of the noise stops. A little more shuffling, in no particular direction, and then a crashing sound through the bush. Something far too small to be another nation flies through.

Oh, man, all this fuss over a bird? Well, we'll have a little bit to eat if it landed nearby. So where'd it—?

I turn in the direction it went, and it all sort of happens at once. Italy screams, someone stammers, "Wh-wh-what d-did I just do?" and the bushes crash under heavier weight. And I see a very startled Romano reaching for the knife stuck in his neck.

The other voice starts spitting out "oh, no"s as Italy pushes past me and gets to his knees by Romano, who's just now starting to figure out what just happened. I'm still sort of working on it myself.

There's a little bit more shifting from the bushes before the attacker stumbles into our space. "I-I'm so sorry, I-I'm so sorry—"

Romano's starting to hyperventilate by the time I can get a spot at his other side. There's some blood slipping out of the wound, but he's holding the knife pretty tight in there. But with his hands shaking like that...

"—I-I was just running, a-and Russia, a-and we lost him, b-but I-I thought I h-heard him here—"

I try to get Romano to let me keep the blade in place, but Italy's sort of in the way. A little more blood is fighting its way out as Romano starts to freak out a little. Starting to feel the panic myself, I ask if anyone has something knife-shaped to plug up the wound. Romano's already started to cry, but he still gives me a look.

"—and I-I don't even know why I th-threw that, a-and I d-didn't mean to, and—"

"_Shut the fuck up!_" Romano finally screams. Latvia's jaw closes with a snap before he starts mouthing, "I'm sorry" over and over.

At about the point I realize Estonia's standing behind him, there's more crashing coming toward us. If Russia's made it here...!

"What, you knifed somebody? Good, if he's gonna die, we can, like, throw him in the path and see if it, like, distracts Russia—" Poland comes to a stop just behind the others and looks at us for a second. "Hi, I don't know you." He zips around to hide behind Estonia.

Italy's wailing of his brother's name is cut off as Romano shoves him away with his knee. "Move it! You're making it harder to hold this in! Ungh..." He struggles to keep his fingers wrapped around the knife as the blood keeps slipping out around it.

"Here, let me hold it," I start, putting my hand on the hilt. After a second, he lets me.

He just sort of stares at my eyes for a minute before dropping his gaze. "Spain... I... really am glad you came back, okay? I mean, if I d-don't come back this time..."

"Hey, hey," I start. "Don't talk like that. Really! We _just_ came back again, so there's no reason to—"

"Just came back two fucking days later!" he responds. Wait, was he listening this whole...? Right, more important things going on.

"We know it's been getting slower and slower, and it's been so much longer since we actually got killed, and, a-and..." He takes in a shaky breath. "And if I really die, I just don't want my last words to you to be hateful, because you can be really fucking annoying sometimes, but I don't hate you. I don't hate you, okay? You're one of the only guys that always tries to be nice to me, and you don't make me feel worthless, and even if I die here, don't you dare go and die on me..." His breaths are shaking even harder, he's crying so hard now—crap, he really thinks he's going to die for good here... but, at this point, that might... N-no.

"And Veneziano... I don't hate you, either. You can be a real dumbass, but you're always nice to me, too, and you're my _brother__, _and don't you d-dare die, either..."

Assuming he doesn't have much to say to the others present, I decide to jump in. "Okay, calm down a little! You're still going to come back, okay? And you're not even that close to dying right now—"

"You can't fucking say that! It's been too long since we got here, too long since the last time we got killed, and the longer we're here, the more dead we—" He cuts off suddenly and, squeezing his eyes shut, shoves my wrist away. I don't let go in time for any of the blade to stay in his neck, so the blood comes pouring out.

"Romano..."

Italy, half-bawling, half-screaming, jumps back over to hug him before he can fall face first. It's still a matter of seconds before Romano passes out, and he goes limp not too long after that.

France is watching off to the side—not much else to do—and the others have disappeared. I have to give Italy a minute before I can remove Romano's body. I wipe off some of the blood and set him up against a tree.

...Don't worry. I'm not going to go dying on you, all right?

But you can't die on me, either.


	29. No Demands

Author's Note: Uwaa, so many reviews (even if a lot of them are USUK USUK WRITE IT NOW MY SLAVEMONKEY ...that may be a bit of a paraphrase)! It means a lot that you take time to give me some feedback when there are so many other (and quite a few better) fics out there, so thanks. :3

And if anyone needs a list of the nations on the island (since they tend to disappear from the story for a while when they're not doing anything notable), there's pretty much a list in the prologue, with the order of speakers at the meeting.

And since I seem to be into the parenthetical remarks (at least this A/N), I'll just have to ask (for reviews) with them, too. (Or maybe the reviews shouldn't have been in parentheses since they're really important.) (Oh well.)

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><p><em>Russia<em>

I'm here. That's about all I know right now. I'm not sure where here is. Um... Well, I know who I am.

I'm here for another minute before I start to figure out a little more. I'm sort of splayed out and a little rolled onto one side. My head hurts and the rest of me a little bit, but most of the pain is coming from the left side of my head and the shoulder my weight is on. When I try to move, my shoulder hurts a lot worse.

"Ow!" When did I hurt that? ...And when did I get back over here?

I look at the trees for another minute before figuring that, yeah, this is the last place I was trying to catch animals with my briefcase. But that's not what I was doing before whatever happened, right? I don't think I fell asleep, maybe...

And where is my briefcase? I don't see it by me. Maybe it's on my other side.

I make another effort to push myself up and finally succeed. It makes my shoulder hurt enough that my eyes start to water, but I can look around a little better. I still don't see the briefcase. Well... Oh! I was fighting with it, right?

That's what I was doing! I was fighting China, and he... either knocked me out or killed me. I can't really tell. But it wasn't over here, was it? Oh, my head hurts too much for me to be confused. Let's just go do something.

But do what? I can't really go attack people, without a pipe or a briefcase, and I didn't think to bring my pickaxe to this meeting... I still have my empty bottle of vodka, but I can't break it or I won't be able to collect any rainwater. Which I could use, because my throat's really dry. It's still way too hot out here.

And I couldn't swing anything too well with my right shoulder like this, anyway. I can put up a fight, but I won't be killing anybody for a while. But there's really not much else to do out here. I still haven't seen Belarus, so she's probably gone, and nobody else usually wants to talk with me. I guess I'll just go look for food and water, then. I haven't been too lucky with that, either, though.

I get to my feet with a little bit of trouble. I'm a little dizzy, but I don't know if that's from head injury or going through all of this with just about nothing to eat. I'll have to keep going either way.

I wander around for a while looking. A squirrel actually crosses my path, but I can't get to it in time. By the time my watch says 6:00, I'm about ready to give up. If I don't find anything soon, I might just try to eat my shirt or something. Except I guess I'd have to wash all of the sweat out, and the sky's still pretty clear. Maybe I'll just try some random leaves. What's the worst they could do? Maybe they could be really poisonous, but our immortality's still here, so that's no big deal. But if they make me throw up or something, then that would just make things worse...

Oh... I guess I'll keep looking...

After foraging a while longer, I find something. Well, not something to eat, unfortunately, but somebody else. I can't tell who from this far, but hopefully it's someone who'll talk to me for a little bit! Or maybe share some food or water, or...!

I'm able to pick up the pace as I approach the nation. He doesn't notice me since he's too busy nibbling on something. Food! I really hope he'll share.

I decide to get his attention. "Hey!" I go ahead and add his name—but it somehow doesn't make it out of my mouth. Um... How do you say "Poland" again...?

I don't have to worry about that much, though, because he jumps at my first word. "Gah!" he starts, turning around to see me. "Like, frick! Don't startle people like that! I thought it was, like, going to be a scary person or something behind me!"

I laugh. "Sorry~." I consider asking him what he's eating, but I can't really figure out the words I'm trying to use. What is wrong with me...?

Eventually I'm able to just go with, "Food?" I nod at his closed hand.

"Huh?" He looks at the hand. "Oh, yeah, that's, like, what it is." He gives me a look and eats one of them. It looks like some sort of nut. Maybe they're pistachios. I don't really care as long as they're food.

Poland catches me staring and moves his hand farther away from me. "Well, they're not for you. I'm, like, hungry enough already!"

I still don't take my eyes off it until I turn to meet his gaze. "Please?" I consider adding a threat, but I'm not sure how much of it I could say. That, and I don't really have anything to threaten him with. Maybe he doesn't know that, but... My threats don't usually work so well on Poland, anyway. Don't know why. It could save him a lot of trouble sometimes~.

"No." He glances to his sides and then points to his left with his thumb. "So, like, scram."

I stand still for a minute and look at him. Is it worth it to attack him for a little handful? It's still more than I've eaten for... a while. But he's probably in better fighting shape than me, especially if he's had food. But what's the worst that could happen, right? I... I think it'll be worth it... It's not like I could just sit and talk with him, anyway, with... with my brain damage or whatever's wrong with me. And I probably won't even draw blood, but it could still be kind of fun.

He dodges the second I pounce. I end up falling to the ground, and before I can get up, he stands on my back. I squirm a little, but all it does is dig my chin a little deeper into the dirt.

"Like, seriously?" He eats some of his handful with a crunch. "That's totally not what 'scram' means."

Some grass is tickling my nose, so I crane my neck to the left. That's the first time I see the tree. The whole pistachio tree. It's been picked half-clean, but compared to Poland's handful, it's almost more than I could hope for.

With renewed effort, I try to throw Poland off. He's still standing comfortably, munching on his food. So I grab a broken stick and jab him in the ankle.

"Ow!" The ankle jerks up off me, and when I push up with my left arm and leg, I'm free. It takes a little more effort to get up without hurting my shoulder, but I still manage it and run straight for the tree.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Poland grabs at the back of my shirt. I twist around to escape and put everything into sprinting for the tree. I make it before he catches me and then scramble up the branches. He grabs my foot, but I kick him away, losing my shoe in the process. I climb another row of branches, and I'm finally where I can reach some of the nuts. I start picking pistachios and shoving them in my mouth without bothering to pick all of the shells off. It makes my mouth feel drier, but I'm _eating_!

I get through one of the little clusters before I realize I'm having a little trouble hanging on. Hopefully I'm not just imagining that the tree is shaking. Poland's trying to climb up, but he has to find some lower branches than the ones I used. I keep an eye on him as I reach for another clump of food.

My hand meets something solid that's not nut or bark. Confused, I take my eyes off Poland and check, just as the whatever-it-is jerks out of my hand. Seeing it's a shoe and figuring from the motion there's still a foot in it, I climb up a little to see whose it is.

I almost lose my grip, the branches start shaking so hard. But what else would I expect when I'm eye-to-eye with Latvia?

I try to say hello, but all I can manage is, "Hey!"

"H-Hi," he stammers breathlessly. When I approach, he scoots back, bumping into Estonia. And if those two and Poland are around...

"Um... Литва, where?"

Latvia stutters for a minute before Estonia answers for him, "He's gone."

I tilt my head to the side a little, and he continues. "Gone from the island, I mean. P-Poland let him kill him, and then he faded away."

"Oh..." Well, good for him. I just wish we could all be here together...

I sort of stay here for a minute before deciding to climb up to sit and eat with them for a minute. It looks like Poland's given up on keeping me away for now, so it should be fine.

The branches aren't arranged quite right, and I end up putting some weight on my right hand. I manage not to make a sound, but I can feel my face contort.

Suddenly the two Baltics are gone. The branches at my side quake, and I look through them to see Latvia and Estonia rapidly climbing down and away.

No, wait! "Stop!"

I clamber down as they hop to the ground. They recover and go off running before I'm at the lowest set of branches.

"Guys!" Poland starts after them a few steps. "Like, what are you doing? Is somebody else here?" They don't respond, and Poland gives a frustrated sigh before throwing a glance at the tree and going after them.

So... Everybody left... But that means I can eat all of these I want, right? Yay!

I crawl back up a little and eat until the sun goes down. The others still haven't come back, and I don't think I could find much water if I left, so I just curl up here and nod off.

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><p>I wake up on the ground somewhere. Uh... Was I drunk or something? No, I don't think so... I'm really, really thirsty, though. I should try to find something.<p>

I push myself up—my shoulder's tight, but it doesn't hurt quite so much—and look around. I don't know where this is. Somewhere in the woods. The pistachio tree is nowhere in sight.

I start wandering around. I don't think I've been here before, but it's hard to tell. It doesn't look like there's any water, except for dew. Hopefully none of the leaves I'm licking are poisonous.

I'm approaching a bush that might have berries when something snaps around my ankle.

"Wah!" Before I can look down to see what, I'm suddenly upside-down in the air. My vodka bottle tries to fly off, but I manage to catch it

After bouncing around a little, I slow down and just sway. I look to see if anyone's coming, but no one's around.

Um... What's going on?

I just stay here for a while until the blood really starts to run to my head. Not sure how exactly to escape, I reach down with my left arm, my fingertips brushing the ground. I attempt pulling myself down, but the grass uproots before I'm moved. Having to pull myself up with my arms, I try fiddling with the vine around my ankle, but I can't stay long enough to figure out the knot. I let myself hang again until I can gather the strength to try again. I think the knot part is by my heel. I can't really see it.

"Russia!"

I flop back down and watch as Japan approaches. I don't think he's going to cut me free.

"Hey." I guess my speaking hasn't healed as much as my shoulder. It must be brain damage. But that's no fun! That takes days to heal! Ohh…

"Russia." Japan has made it to me. "How much do you know about what's going on?"

I laugh weakly, sort of to myself. "Uh… I… I've, back. Oh—Литва gone. Um…" It's kind of hard to read Japan's face, but I'm pretty sure he's confused by now.

"Sorry. I…" How do you say "head" again? Or "brain?" Nn…

I just sort of bop the side of my head with my fingertips and smile.

"…All right…" Japan starts, "I suppose I'll just explain as much as I can, if that's okay with you."

I nod but point at the vine.

"I apologize, but I can't risk you getting away. I wouldn't even spend time speaking with you if I didn't have to. This is an urgent situation."

He goes on to explain what he knows that I might not. He's worried that taking longer to come back is a sign our immortality's running out. I don't like the way he puts it. I read rule number four, but we can't completely lose our immortality, right? We can't just… die like that! I like ripping the other nations to shreds, but… if they don't come back, then they could never be friends with me…

This isn't fun anymore…

But Japan could be wrong, right? And I'll have to kill to get home, anyway, so I can just keep doing like I've been doing. There should still be a little time.

"And now that you know everything, I'm going to kill you quickly to see if you are my nation. I'm sure we're still coming back, so don't be alarmed," he finishes. I just get a second to process what he's saying before he withdraws his katana.

But—but can't we at least have some fun fighting? I guess I probably wouldn't win, against his sword, but… I don't like just staying still and dying. It's like my people are trying to assassinate me again…

But there's really nothing I can do, and Japan cuts my neck open.


	30. Why Don't You Use It

Author's Note: I don't think I was as explicit as I should have been in my last A/N, so I'd like to clear it up a little. I was joking that certain reviewers were demanding of me, as their slavemonkey, that I write USUK. I was not commanding my slavemonkey to write USUK. I am sorry to inform you that I am not in possession of a slavemonkey. If this changes, I will let you know as soon as possible. Although you will probably suspect it as a random monkey may begin stalking you and throwing your things about until you review.

Until then, I'll just have to ask nicely. Reviews, please?

Also, it's not clear, but this chapter takes place shortly after the last one.

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><p><em>Canada<em>

I sit quietly. That seems to be most of what I've been doing lately. Besides going out to look for food, there's not much to do out here. We've already built some shelters—we didn't really get around to it until the eighth day... or ninth? How long have we been here, anyway?—so that's taken care of. We're getting pretty tired from all the scrounging with little food, so we haven't been doing much playing. We wouldn't want to be building any sandcastles, anyway, or we might just dig up more blood.

Maybe we should just move camp or something. It's been pretty safe so far, but half of that's probably just from us being in a big group. Or at least a group with the super-strength guy.

I glance at America. He does still have his strength, right? Because if my invisibility's going away, his strength probably is, too, right? But how much? Probably until it could be a normal human's strength, and then... How quickly? At the same rate as our immortality? That makes sense. But, the big question is, how long will that take...?

Well, it's had quite a bit of time already. We... We really need to do something. And I don't mean waiting for England to make out magic again, and I don't mean... whatever America's been doing. His latest idea has been to run out into the ocean and try to find a whale so he can "make friends with it and score us a ride off the island." It's not working out so far. In case you were wondering.

Still more than I've tried, though. I don't know what to do, though, other than just play by The Rules. I mean, I have a weapon now and everything, but... If I'm going to have to kill these guys, I'd really rather not have to bludgeon in their heads a couple of times. It's weird enough trying to kill them in the first place. If only I'd kept Japan's sword.

That'd solve more than one problem.

But... anyway. About killing them... Well, I'm still not being noticed for an appreciable amount of time, so I'm sure we're still at least a little immortal. Probably. Ohh... I should have started this earlier. But, I can at least start now. As long as they don't stay dead, I'm not really hurting them too much, right? And they would know I'm just trying to get off, so...

Then again, that's just about what France was doing, wasn't it? And I'm still not too happy about that. But this should all work out okay. As long as I hurry, I can figure out whom I have to kill, as long as he's not already gone.

What-what would happen to me then? I guess I wouldn't leave. And that has to happen to somebody here, just with the way The Rules are set up... Who has to kill me? Can I just leave him here? But... There have to be quite a few of us left, and it's already taking this long to come back, and if I try to let everybody kill me first, eventually I'm just going to stay dead. So-so I just have to fight to get myself off.

I put my forehead in my hands. Oh, gosh, this is terrible...

A yelp suddenly comes from out in the water. After it cuts off, there's just the sound of waves crashing.

Was that off where America went? Looking over there, I can't see him, but if something's gone wrong...

I exchange a look with England. He looks back in that direction and then sighs, setting down the branch he was shaping. "Better check it out," he says, throwing off his shirt. "In case he's out there drowning himself." He kicks off his shoes and such and charges into the water. He doesn't travel much until he starts swimming. At that rate, it doesn't take long for him to end up around the area the noise was. I can't see him from here, so I just make myself wait, keeping an eye on his stuff.

They'll be fine. Even if something did happen to America, we should still be immortal, so it's okay.

It's a minute or two before I can make out a lump approaching in the water. It staggers close enough for me to see America leaning on England, and then they separate. America's not completely stable—and he's totally waterlogged—but he's not doing any worse than spluttering when the two get to the shore.

"What happened?" I start as America flops onto the sand.

"Huh?" He looks over to see me. "Oh, well..." He coughs, fiddling with the glasses that apparently got a little bent in the day's happenings. "I was just walking a little further out, and then suddenly, _kwfffoom_!" He makes a huge motion downward with his arms. "I step onto, like, nothing and slip under, and there's all these currents and stuff, and... I don't even know what happened. I just finally came up a couple of times, and then England's pulling me up..." He coughs again.

"The bottom was still visible and such back there," adds England, "so it's not that he only forgot to watch where he was going." He pauses as he pulls his shirt back over his head. "I haven't seen a decent barrier spell used in water before, but I'm going to assume that's what it was."

America snorts. "Barrier spell? Crap, man, you just think everything has to be magic. It's obviously just an invisible wall thing the aliens put up to keep us in." He takes no notice of England rolling his eyes and crosses his arms. "So getting off here is going to be harder than I thought."

Or we could take the easy way out and kill each other. That's more sure. Well, sure if we find the right nation before he escapes... I know with his hero fixation America's not going to accept that, but...

...Am I? I know at least two of us have taken the offensive, so it's not like I would be trying something unthinkable. If I try it, though, I have to go through the island as quick as possible. The time's ticking away. Not only are we taking longer, but I think we're being hit harder. Like China. Apparently half of his right arm has gone numb after his going head-to-head with Russia. I mean, it's not unheard of for us to get brain damage, but it takes a lot. We—well, they—knock each other about the head all the time, but nothing usually comes of it. Maybe a gunshot to the head would mess us up—although it couldn't be lethal, since whatever kills us is the first wound to heal completely—but a suitcase? I'm sure it had some rocks or something in it, but that still doesn't seem like enough.

Maybe I'm just worrying over nothing, but I know our immortality's fading, and I want to keep tabs on how much is left. It's not that useful, but at least I can have a clue. Keep me somewhat sane.

Although if I'm going to go on a killing rampage, sanity might be a disadvantage. How am I ever going to do this...?

The trees behind me rustle, and I turn to see China returning with more water. He set up the fire pit earlier, so he just has to balance the wok on the branches and get a flame going. He still has to watch his own fingers to make absolutely sure they're doing what he's telling them to. Luckily, whatever damage he took doesn't seem to have paralyzed anything.

I watch the fire flicker for a while before sweeping the area. No one else is around. America's squinting into the sky, probably trying to come up with a new plan. China's watching the water boil. England has gone back to grating his curved piece of wood against a tree at the edge.

Deciding to take a seat near England, I ask him what he's making. He doesn't respond.

"Um, England?" Still nothing. I heave a sigh before remembering I should be relieved by this. After debating for a moment, I say his name again and wave my hand in front of his face. He finally starts a little and looks at me.

"Do you never have anything better to do than annoy..." He squints at my face a little. "Oh, Canada." He straightens up and goes back to carving his branch. "What is it?"

"Oh, nothing important. I was just wondering what you were working on."

"This?" He holds up the curved wood for a second and then scrapes off a little more bark. "It's going to be a bow. Not a very good one, but after partial starvation for this long and longer, I wouldn't handle a good one very well, anyway." He inspects the future bow. "I think I'll go ahead and reverse-twist the string, though."

I nod and watch him take off some last bits of wood. "So... Are you planning to go on the offensive?"

"Not at this point. I'd rather wait a little longer to see exactly whom I need to kill than start shooting down everyone. I'd hate to make so many arrows." He sets the piece of wood down and retrieves a handful of stringy grass-things from one pocket. "But it'll be nice to be able to defend myself with something other than my fists. Especially if it can get the bodies further from our campsite." He gets to work on what must be the best material available for the string.

The main portion is still on the ground, unsupervised. Pretty good idea, making a weapon out of something that won't disappear from the island. It's awfully heavy to carry this pipe around all the time. Maybe I should just make a spear or something...

Yeah, either beat them over the head a couple of times, or stab them with a splintery thing and hope it turns out to be lethal. At least if I use the pipe, they might lose consciousness on the first hit.

Am I really going to do this...?

Yes, I am. I need out of here. I'm sure I could help get the rest off the island from the other side as well as I could here. I don't have a great chance either way, so I might as well try to help without keeping my life in danger. And the quicker I go around killing, the better chance my, eh, victims have. So... it's really better for me to go ahead and... do that.

So, do I start with my allies here? I know where they are, so I won't waste any time. But if I start swinging the pipe about, there are a lot of nations here to stop me. Though, they might let me if I just explain myself, right? They're in the same situation, so they have to relate, and I'm not a psycho killer or anything, so they shouldn't think I'm doing this for fun... But I still feel like America wouldn't approve of "killing innocents" and whatnot, and he's the number one culprit of messing up my plans.

But if I start somewhere else, I don't know where anyone is. Then again, I'd have that problem just a little while after attacking this group, unless one of these guys is the nation I have to kill. But if Germany had to kill Japan, and France had to kill me, the nation I have to kill is probably close to me. And since the only two on the island I could really be considered close to are right here, I should have better chances starting here.

England's absorbed in his work. I'm probably off his radar again, anyway. So now would be a good shot...

I grip the pipe with both hands but have to avert my gaze from the face of one of my former big brothers. Oh my gosh, I can't kill him! What if it's already too late? What if I just... What if...

I squeeze my eyes shut and take a few deep breaths. No, I have to do this, remember? He's going to be fine. But every second I wait makes this riskier for him, for anyone else if the one I have to kill isn't him, and for me. I've already waited way too long, long enough for the immortality and who knows what else to start draining away from us, and there's no time to hesitate.

But when I look back at him, I still can't make myself swing.

Come on! He's... He's made you mad before, hasn't he? All of those things he's done, everything you've pushed down this long... Surely you could muster up one good swing from all of that! Let him have it!

My arms refuse to move.

I... No, I don't want to think like that... Yeah, he's done some bad things, but... that's not why I'm doing this, eh? I want to get out of here alive, and I don't want to kill anyone for good. Just... Let's think on it for a while... and then try again.

By the time I've sort of calmed down, China announces that the water's going to be cooled off enough soon. England calls, "Okay" but quickly turns back to his bowstring. I have to do this before he moves. Okay? I have to do this...

After another few moments of tense hesitation, I look at England again. He doesn't notice the motion.

His head snaps back as the pipe crashes into it. As I stand, he falls back—with a cry of pain. Paranoid, I shoot a glance over my shoulder where I last saw the others. China's turning towards us, while America's already opening his mouth.

Pulse rushing, I bring the pipe down hard on England's head for good measure. I don't think he's dead yet, but it only takes one last glimpse back at the others—with an unhappy America rushing straight towards me—before I bolt.


	31. Dirty Deeds

Author's Note: When I was typing one of Spain's lines, my mother called to get me to taste-test some of the tomatoes we had. Made my day.

You know what else I like? (Wait for it. I know the suspense is killing you.) Reviews. Go ahead, make my day.

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><p><em>France<em>

We haven't moved around much since Romano was killed. I'm desperately thirsty, but I don't have enough energy to go and look for anything. Besides, what I really need to drink isn't going to be on this island.

It's not quite as urgent as before. Between guilt and being dead, I haven't been lopping off many heads lately. Even considering that, I still don't seem quite as psychopathic as I should be by now. I'm grateful for it, of course, and I'm by no means free of the need to behead someone, but it's strange. To be able to stand here and calmly watch some others, after this long without a drop of wine.

How long has it been, anyway? A week? Two? Italy's the only one around who's been alive every day, but he seems to have lost track. And I guess he has more important things to worry about.

I turn my head—even this takes a nasty amount of effort—toward the others. Italy's still squatted down, keeping a jittery watch over his brother's body. Spain's sitting against a tree, arms crossed. I can't tell whether he's asleep or not. Sleep doesn't sound bad, actually. It's about the right time in the afternoon, I think, and it's not like being awake would help us all that much if someone else comes along. More importantly, I'm dead tired, and every minute unconscious is a minute I'm not fantasizing about guillotining anybody.

Letting my eyelids fall, I slouch a little against the tree. I wonder if it's worth it to lie down. The soil's not much more comfortable than the sand, and it'll be that much harder to get up. But the tree's far from comfy, too...

I'm startled back to alertness by Italy screaming and something crunching into tree bark. Opening my eyes, I see Italy lunged forward, repeatedly bashing Romano's tree with the butt of Latvia's knife.

"Italy!" Spain tumbles forward and manages to pull Italy away. After a few more fruitless swings, Italy lowers the knife and sits there quivering and looking at Romano.

"Hey, calm down," says Spain, putting his hands on Italy's shoulders. "It was just a beetle."

Italy doesn't move. "I-it was going t-toward him," he gets out. Then he breaks down crying again.

I feel like I should help comfort him... But I'm sort of scared to get close, with one blade in my belt and another right there. So close, so ready to carve a nice little line through their necks and send the heads tilting, falling, rolling—

_Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it!_

I bite the inside of my check until the surface breaks and leaks blood. I am not doing this, I am not _thinking_ this... I already betrayed Canada, and I don't even know how Italy would take it if I did something. The big brother's not supposed to hurt the people who look up to him. I may have already screwed that up once here, but that doesn't mean I can do it again.

And look how bad off he is already. Going insane over insects, completely breaking down over his brother being dead every chance he gets... He'd lose it altogether if I suddenly turned on him. Especially when he trusted me enough to bring me into this group in the first place.

...Although Spain tends to take things in stride...

No, quit thinking about this.

I blearily watch the two. Spain's trying to convince Italy that Romano will come back, but Italy's still curled up, sobbing. It's all so grim...

Hoping sleep will come quickly, I close my eyes. Tired as I am, I'm not really ready to fall asleep yet, I suppose. Even with my shirt and jacket off and my pant legs rolled above the knees, it's too hot, anyway. There's just nothing comfortable enough about this place to allow sleep. I'll probably have to wait until the temperature dips the tiniest bit at sundown.

Some more bark is crunching. I rub my eyes open to see what poor Italy is up to now, but he's not attacking the tree again. He's just huddled up, rocking on his feet, knife ready, watching Romano. Spain has moved back to his trunk, but he's keeping an eye on the other two without moving. So what am I hearing...?

I start to call Spain to check, but my throat is too dry for me to get out a sound audible enough. I wave, but he's starting to close his eyes again. I'm not going to fetch Italy, but... Do I really have to check it myself?

I listen a while longer, but the sound hasn't stopped. I should probably check it out. They'd probably find me, anyway, and I should at least try to warn the others if it's someone dangerous. Do something right on this island.

With some struggle, I manage to get to my feet. They've kind of fallen asleep, but once I start taking a few heavy steps, the tingling tones down. I continue in the general direction of the crashing, which has started to get louder. It doesn't look like the others have noticed it yet, but I don't think I'm imagining it...

I go a few more steps, looking all around, before I can figure out the exact direction of the sound. I peer that way more carefully, pausing.

I can't recognize the figure by the time it rams straight into me. My feet come off the ground about the same time I find myself unable to inhale, and then I'm tumbling. The other nation's caught in the roll with me, but all I can see is the woods whirling around. It doesn't take too long to begin stopping, because I can't breathe again until I've tumbled over by myself and landed, some clovers tickling my cheek. I feel the scratches start to burn as I struggle to push at least my top half off the ground.

What just... No, _who_ just...?

Trying to figure out the direction the other nation went, I turn my neck. After a minute of disoriented searching, I locate him. He's already recovered physically—the gasping is probably from the running he's been doing—and he's seated, his weight on his hands back behind him. But he's just sitting there, taking in quick breaths, and staring at me. It's clear to see the shock on the face that I last saw detached from the rest of its body.

The bewildered Canada looks on for a moment longer before suddenly remembering he was running from something. He checks around him, scrambles to his feet, and takes off again.

A bit shocked myself, I stay here in a half-pushed-up position before looking in the direction he was running from. There's a second of crunching and thumping, and then a thin tree—the one Canada must have been dodging when he ran into me—is shoved to the side. America comes crashing through, not breathing much lighter than his brother. And he's pretty set on the chase, because he doesn't even move his head enough to see me.

He disappears into the brush, and I don't hear anything coming after him. Not that he would run from much. Unless he thought there was a ghost, but then Canada wouldn't be so scared. So America was running after Canada... because...?

I get into a seated position moments before my arms give out. By then, Spain has finally figured out something's going on. He comes and offers me a hand.

"What happened?" he starts, pulling me to my feet.

Starting to breathe properly again, I try to answer, but I'm still too dried up. I just shake my head for now and follow him back to the Italies. While Romano hasn't moved, Italy's actually turned his head to watch us come.

"He's okay," Spain starts, presenting me before walking over to Italy's side. "Think he could use a drink, though." His own voice is getting kind of raspy, so he clears his throat. "Do we have anything left?"

Italy turns his head back to face his brother and shuffles through the inside of his coat. He pulls out a couple of bottles and inspects them, but none of them are to any extent full. I feel thirstier just knowing that I can't have even water.

Italy shakes his head and starts replacing the bottles in the coat. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"No, that's fine," Spain responds quickly, patting Italy on the back. "We can always look for more..." His gaze drags to Romano. I'm guessing that between Italy and Spain, we won't be leaving this area unless we take Romano with us. And I don't think I could stand carrying around a dead body, not even considering how we're all probably too tired to try it. We'll probably just hang around, until... something happens. Whether it's someone coming after us, or Romano waking up, or all of us just plain dying from thirst or hunger...

I spare a glance at Romano's face. It's not all that bad just yet. Pale, and a little bit discolored. It'll only get worse, though, if he doesn't come back soon. And according to current trends, he won't. How long were we gone last time? Days? Oh, my face must have looked horrible! In a moment of paranoia, I feel around my chin and cheeks in case some damage may have lingered. If my poor, beautiful face is mottled, I would rather be dead!

...Well. I guess I shouldn't say such a thing out here. If I were dead, I might not be coming back. And even if there's still time now, I could be dead in a day or two. What about then? I'd have even less immortality left, right? Or none? Or none right now? And I'm just going to sit around and hope I suddenly arrive home? I have a weapon again, and I should get back to slicing necks if I ever want to get out of here!

But am I even capable of that anymore? I'm so tired from all of this I can't even make myself sit up straight. Going hunting like Japan's been is completely impossible.

But then there are a few right around here I could kill...

But no. I can't do that to Italy. And I'd rather not do it to Spain, although it's not like we've been consistent friends... But that doesn't make it acceptable to kill him.

But does trying to get out of here alive? That's all I really hope for in killing—aside from a few rolling heads... B-but that's another matter altogether, and not very important.

And I still need to kill quickly. Canada lived, and should be able to forgive me. If I'm quick enough, Spain could live, too.

I look back over at him, but my gaze ends up resting on Italy. He's been having meltdowns not for his life, but for his brother's. Would it really hurt him much less for Spain to die beside him, by my hand at that?

Well... What if it weren't beside him? If we just move out a little, Italy's a little too out of it to notice much, anyway... But, no, he could still turn around. So, say we wait until he's asleep...

But Italy would still know I did it. I could always explain away Spain's body and the blood on my knife if I stay, but if I don't? Well... I could just try to make it look like someone else attacked us, and... And then I killed them in self-defense. Yeah, I could tell Italy that once we're back home. I don't think Spain would have much of a reason to counteract me, so...

And he might not make it back, anyway...

But his best chance is if I kill him now. Well, today. Tonight.

...All right. I think I'm going to do this. It's the best shot I have, and if I'm wrong, I can always saw Spain's head off afterward, and maybe that can satisfy my bloodlust. Win-win situation, right?

So, forming a plan as Italy devotedly crushes another nearby insect, I wait for sundown. Watches don't seem to be this alliance's thing, so we just start nodding off. I really have to fight to stay awake, and Spain is the first to slip into deep, steady breathing. Not going too well so far. Italy's still tensed up, but he's so exhausted I think he'll collapse into sleep any minute now.

It takes another good half-hour, but eventually Italy relaxes enough to lie down and sleep. Rubbing my eyes in hopes they'll stop trying to close, I wobble onto my feet and trudge over to Spain. I prod his side until he wakes, and then I motion for him not to say anything. He's a little disoriented, so I help him up. His mouth opens before he remembers not to say anything. He gives me a quizzical look instead.

"Can we talk?" I mouth slowly. "Away from Italy."

Spain takes a minute to decipher the message before nodding. I start to lead him away from Romano's tree, both thumbs in my pockets.

Ha. Normally, I don't think most nations would follow me into an unsupervised place in the middle of the night, but I guess these are pretty extraordinary circumstances.

Once I feel we're far enough from Italy, I come to a stop. I don't go for the knife just yet, because I absolutely have to surprise him, or Italy might be roused.

Spain comes around to face me and then stops. "What's up?"

"Well..." It's not too hard to hesitate when I have to struggle to get any decent words out. Sort of lucking out lying to these guys here. "...About Romano," I start. Spain watches my face intently. I'm going to have to get him talking before I can try anything.

"Are you..." I clear my throat. "...really that sure he's coming back?" Honestly, I wouldn't mind knowing the answer, but I'll probably have to cut him short.

Spain thinks for a moment, crossing his arms and leaning back against a tree. "Yeah, pretty much." He wipes some sweat from his forehead. "Why? I don't really know." He chuckles. "I just don't think he'd die like that. It—"

He ducks to the side when I go for his neck. I'm too slow to chop off anything but a dirty lock of hair.

"France?" he starts, centering his weight back on his feet. A sliver of moonlight illuminates his eyes, which are now carefully trained upon me.

Well, that all went wrong. I can't do much but meet his gaze and try to come up with an excuse.

Then he suddenly pivots around and throws an arm over my shoulders. "Haven't had you any wine in a while, huh?" he laughs.

I weakly join in. Yeah, I guess he does know about that... And while it wasn't really my motivation this time around, I guess it's a decent excuse. "Y-yeah. Sorry..."

He starts to lead me back to the others. "Aw, don't worry about it. You're doing pretty well for a week and some without. Did you have any at the meeting?"

"Ah, no..." We're getting too close. I have to kill him now. But he suspects me, and—

Wait. He thinks I just want to chop off his head. He's not as prepared for a stab somewhere else, then, right?

I let him take another step with his arm across my shoulders before I slowly tilt my arms back, like I'm just stretching. He checks my face, and I smile weakly before jamming the knife in his back. I see the muscles in his back tense before he makes a startled sound of pain.

I dare a frantic glance back in Italy's direction to see if he heard. Another reason I should have gone for the throat...!

Pulling out the blade, I prepare to make a jab for his neck when he spins around with a hard fist. It connects with my stomach, and I fly back, my heels and eventually my rear dragging on the ground until I stop at an exposed root. I can't really try to get up or breathe, so I just stay here spluttering as Spain takes a few steps towards me.

"Or maybe you're not doing so well." He coughs, kneeling down to look at me. "Sorry, but I think I'd better be alive when Romano wa—" A less healthy-sounding cough. "...wakes up." He stifles the next cough and grabs me by the arm. Why is he coughing so loud? Don't let it wake Italy...

"Let's go back."

At this, I try to loose myself from his grip, but I can't manage it. No... No, this wasn't supposed to happen...

He drags me about a meter before he really starts hacking again.

...Did I do that? Get in a good shot to his lung? That must be it. Please be lethal, please be lethal... Please be lethal before Italy wakes up...

Spain keeps his grip—though it may be from pain—as he struggles forward. Blood is running down his back, and now that I look for it, there's a little on the hand he's coughing into. He has to be drowning some. Hurry it up, please...

I wonder if I could stab him again, but I realize I'm not even holding the knife anymore. It's not in Spain's belt, either, so I must have just dropped it somewhere. I only had that one shot. Please, work.

Spain still manages to drag me closer to the tree through his choking until he suddenly halts. His grip loosens as he leans over, breathing fast.

"Crap," he wheezes, suddenly sitting down. I lie here watching as he reaches a hand around to press on the wound. It doesn't seem to do much good, because he lets go immediately. He just stays bent over, trying to get in deeper breaths and not succeeding. Just a little more... Just start doing a little worse, and send me home...

I close my eyes for a second, listening to what I'm putting my friend through in another desperate attempt to get home. Please work. I've done too much bad here for none of it to work.

Looking out again, I realize I can see Italy shifting. No—!

No, it's okay. I just explain how we were attacked, and...

Spain's coughing has seized. When I crane my neck to look back at him, he's slumped on the ground. His chest isn't moving, but there are some rasping breaths from his direction. In another minute, I can't hear those, either.

With some struggle, I turn back in Italy's direction. He's just now looking over. Now's the time to tell him we... We were attacked by Belarus, and...

But I can't get any words out. I'm too dried up, too tired, and... Where'd Italy go? No, he's still right there... I'm so exhausted I can't even see straight anymore...

But when I'm starting to see a bed, I realize it's not just fatigue. In another minute, I can see that that's _my_ bed, and by now I can't see a speck of the forest.

It... worked. It actually worked...!

To help with rejoicing and a few other issues, I drag myself to my emergency bedside supply of wine and, at this point not quite shedding a tear for the lack of finesse, rip off a cork and drink straight from the bottle.

Everything's okay. Everything's going to be fine now. I'm safe at home, and it worked in the end, and I can worry about all the horrible things I've done after I have my drink and get some sleep.


	32. Don't Seem Real

Author's Note: I was asked for another stretch of timeline, sooo...

On day nine, Austria and Hungary found Italy, China and Russia KO'ed each other, and Latvia killed Romano.

On day ten, Japan killed Russia, Canada killed England, and France killed Spain.

And we come in on day eleven.

Also, I promise I don't mind at all when I'm reading the review alert in my email and it ends with, "This message has been truncated due to length." I promise. I also promise I'll love you if you review at all (but I'm sure you knew that anyway).

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><p><em>Estonia<em>

"I'm, like, bored."

I lean across the branches and tilt my head back to see Poland sitting on the ground. "We could always look for more water," I respond. "That other creek is nothing but half-dry mud now."

"Hmm..." Poland stares up at the leaves and bits of sky. "Okay."

"Okay?" I shift around until I'm in a decent position to climb down. Stepping on branches carefully, I keep my briefcase out of my way and hop to the ground. I join Poland, and we start off looking.

At least this time I didn't try to get Latvia to follow us. It would be a bit difficult for him to do that, seeing as he's off the island.

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><p><em>We're back to running from Russia. Latvia's still having a heart attack over killing someone by accident, but he's able to keep the lead. Looking past him, I see Poland and then trees. No Russia coming after us, or any of the group we just left. We probably don't have to run much further, and then we'll just take a break and go back to our tree. Unless Russia went back to wait for us...<em>

_B-but it's been our only source of food. We can't leave it alone if we can help it. Besides, Russia probably doesn't know the way back, anyway._

_I focus ahead of me, and I only glimpse Latvia for a second before he makes a startled sound and jumps to the side. I swerve a little to stay out of the way, but I slow down once I realize he's coming to a stop._

_"Latvia?" I walk back towards him as Poland comes to stand behind me. The kid's looking about rapidly, and... is it just the light dimming, or is he sort of fading...? "Are you okay? Why are we stopping?"_

_Latvia rubs his eyes, confused. "There was a dresser there. What..." He looks at me wide-eyed. "Wh-why are you fading? Wh-what—" He checks his surroundings again, growing more frantic by the second. "Oh my gosh, am I-I dying?"_

_"No," I respond quickly. By now it's easy to tell he's fading. And... isn't that what Poland said happened to Belarus? "You just killed another nation, so don't you think it's...?"_

_"K-karma?" _

_"Eh—no, not karma." I put a hand on his shoulder, half to reassure him and half in hopes I might go with him. "The Rules, remember? I think you're going home."_

_"A-ah?" he responds waveringly, seeming a little more concerned with the fact that he can now see through his fingers. _

_I let go of him and lean a little to catch his eyes. If he's going home... "Hey. Was the dresser you saw yours?"_

_"M-maybe..." He looks around, opening his mouth to say something else—but then he's gone. _

_"Say hi to Lithy for me!" Poland calls. He pauses, like he expects a reply, and then turns to me. "So, like, were Romano and him friends or something?"_

_I stretch, starting to recover from the run. "I don't think so, but I don't know everything about him." I check behind us to make sure no one's coming. "Why?"_

_Poland shrugs. "Like, Lithy had to kill me, and we're friends. And then Belarus, like, had to kill Lithy, and they're not really friends, but Lithy at least, like, likes her and all."_

_"Oh, yeah." I mop some sweat off my forehead. "Well... there's no rule saying our nations have to be ones that care about us. It wouldn't surprise me if all of the pairs are just set up at random."_

_On a whim, I open up my briefcase and check out the agenda. Now faded are Germany, Switzerland, Belarus, Lithuania, and Latvia._

_Yep. He's gone._

* * *

><p>Since then, France's name has also gone light. Six of us off. I sure hope none of them was my nation. My most hopeful bet is that I don't even have to worry about that. I mean, if I went back over and read The Rules now, I'm sure it would still say there's one nation on this island I have to kill, and if it means what it says, I'm still good. I'm not really sure whether it's more likely The Rules will change, or that the nations anyone has to kill get switched around every time someone leaves. Or maybe I'm just completely wrong. There's no telling, really. Just thinking.<p>

And acting, I guess, but I don't really want to go around knifing nations if I'm not sure I have to yet. If my theory's right, it's best to wait until there are only two left, and then we kill each other, and then we're all home. If the theory's not, well... I'll take it as I go. As much as I have to worry about getting off, I also have to worry about staying alive while I'm here.

Thus the water trip when I'm already pretty tired. I haven't even been moving around much, aside from getting water and helping drag an unconscious Russia away from our tree, but I'm still losing a lot of fluid. It's just hot out here. I have to be pretty dehydrated already, and it's not going to get much better while I'm out in the wilderness. Let's just hope this all works out...

We go on through the woods for a while, not having much luck on our search, before I hear some sort of speech.

Poland picks up on it, too. "Is somebody, like, screaming?"

A chill unrelated to sweat runs down my back at the thought. "I'm not sure."

"Let's go find out!"

"Uh—" Before I can get a word in, he's taken off towards the sound. I'd really rather not find out, but I shouldn't leave Poland. We're not exactly the closest of friends, but we have hung out. And it's also pretty nice being here with someone who's not afraid to fight Russia.

So I hurry after him, although I still try to keep an eye out for any water. I'm not getting my hopes up, though.

Within a minute, the intermittent screaming has gotten a bit clearer. I still can't tell what the words are, but at least he's screaming _something_ instead of just howling in pain.

Poland hesitates for a second and looks up, since it sounds like the shouting is above us as well as distant. He then goes right back to running. "Does that, like, sound like Italy to you?"

I focus some, though it's getting a little hard to hear over my panting. "I don't know."

We draw closer, and the smell of dead bodies starts to get stronger. I hope this isn't a trap... Though if Italy's involved, I don't think we have to worry about too much advanced strategy.

And once I can make out the words, there's not much doubt it's Italy.

"Help!" The word lasts so long he has to pause and take in a breath. "Germany!" Another brief pause, and he repeats it. And repeats it. I think he's been doing this the whole time we've heard him. What is going on over there...?

We finally approach the tree all of this screaming has been coming from. At its trunk is a clearly dead Romano, slouching and slowly sliding to the ground. A little farther away lies Spain, who's not in as miserable a condition, but all of the blood around him and stretched across his back is enough to prove he's dead, too.

What _is_ going on over here? Or, what has? Spain must have died after Romano, but... Is his killer still around? He used a knife—maybe it was Italy... He sure sounds like he's snapped...

I consider telling Poland climbing to get to Italy probably isn't a good idea, but I don't think he'd listen. Besides, he's already a good two layers of branches up the tree. I just position myself where I can keep an eye on him without being too close.

"Poland!" I go ahead and call, though I have to raise my voice a little more than I thought. "Be careful, okay? He has a knife, and he's not all that stable!"

He leans out over the branches to look at me. "Don't worry! Like, my middle name is careful! Or Włodzimierz. Whatevs." He pulls himself back into the tree and keeps climbing.

Why in the world is Italy up that tree? Or screaming for Germany like a broken record, for that matter? I can understand he'd be worried for his brother, and maybe Spain, but... This isn't just worried. Maybe whatever happened to Spain scared him mindless. What am I doing standing around here...?

I sweep the area one more time before Poland makes it to the top.

"Like, hey! Italy!" he starts, sitting by the huddled-up nation.

The broken record doesn't even stall. He just keeps screaming, like he never heard anything.

"Uh... Italy?" Poland leans in a little and waves his hand in front of the other's face. Still no change. "Uh..." He tries snapping in front of the screaming face, but he still gets nothing. He sits there frowning for a minute before he starts to climb down. Jumping down to land, he exhales and looks at me. "Guess I, like, won't be having any fun times with him right now." He looks up again at the tip of the tree, where a white flag is struggling to unfurl in the slight breeze.

It's getting less and less comfortable standing here by the dead bodies and the screaming live one, so I suggest we get back to the water hunt. Poland agrees to it, and we set off again.

I have to keep careful track of where we're going. It may dull the blade, but I've been drawing arrows with the knife I "inherited" from Belarus. I'm going to scrape back over the marks on the way back, in case Russia or anyone else gets the idea to follow them, but that's all right, too. Besides the two we keep in our belts, we have five more knives—they're all in my briefcase now, since we didn't want to keep dragging Belarus's jacket around—and we haven't been losing them too quickly. I think we'll be safe knowing which way to go.

By a bit after noon, we finally meet water. It doesn't look bad at all for a standing pool, and we'll probably still at least boil it, but we found some. The puddle doesn't seem all that deep, but I'll take whatever I can get.

I start dipping out water, while Poland stares enticed at the bowl. When I set it to the side, he's just about ready to snatch it.

I look at him above my glasses. "We should probably boil it first, you know."

He pouts. "Do we, like, _have_ to?"_  
><em>

"If we want to kill anything in it that could kill us or dehydrate us worse, yes."

He still frowns, but he isn't trying to take the bowl anymore. When I ask him, he helps me gather some firewood, and we get the first bowl boiling. I keep my distance from the fire since I'm hot enough already.

"You haven't seen any other bowl-ish rocks, have you?" I ask.

Poland leans back on his hands. "Don't think so."

I exhale, looking back at the puddle. "We'll just have to scoop up more after we drink this batch, then. There's not enough to worry about saving some for later, so we'll drink it all while we're here now."

By late afternoon, we're ready to leave the crater of mud behind. I look for the last tree I put a few notches in, but about the time I find it, a startled cry comes from the other direction. And considering the events of this morning...

"Like, what was that?"

I sigh internally. "I don't know."

"Then let's find out!" Poland's off before I can attempt a vain word to stop him. I just put the bowl back in my case and start after him.

It's not long until I'm able to see the probable cause of the yelp. Dangling upside-down from a vine and still rotating from the event is Liechtenstein, who's struggling to push some of her skirt away from her face. She doesn't notice us at first. For some reason, her brother isn't coming after her—ah, right. He's gone. Although I probably would have figured that out, anyway, from the lack of gunshots lately. I guess his guns probably went with him. That certainly makes this place a bit less dangerous.

Poland draws a little closer to her before she realizes he's there. She stops fiddling with her clothes, watches him for a second, and then pulls out a gun and aims it our way.

I dive for the bushes at the sight of the thing, while Poland understandably stands there gawking. Has everyone here lost their minds? Little Liechtenstein is pointing a gun at us! I know she idolizes her brother, but this just isn't right.

"Don't move." Her voice is quiet, but it doesn't waver.

"Uh..." Poland sort of puts his hands in the air like he's being held up.

Liechtenstein glances over at me to make sure I'm not going anywhere before she exhales. "There's at least one more snare by me, so be careful, okay?"She lowers the gun, but Poland and I are still recovering.

"Sorry," she starts meekly, "but you were about to step right into it, and I thought this would be the best way to stop you immediately."

Poland looks down by his feet, and we both seem to realize for the first time a curved stretch of vine. The rest is pretty well-covered.

"Well, you're right about that," I respond, on the edge of laughing nervously. I make myself come out of the brush, starting to regret jumping in there as branches scrape at me. Then again, it wasn't that conscious a decision...

"Yeah, like, thanks and stuff." Poland steps to the side of the ring, still watching the ground carefully.

"Don't mention it." Liechtenstein squirms, going through a pocket. Well, more like a stretch of dress she bundled up with something. "But if it's all right with you, would you help me down? I have a knife..."

"Oh, don't worry," I start, stepping towards her, "I have one, too." Tiptoeing carefully, I make my way around to her heels. "Poland, get her shoulders so she doesn't fall on her head, all right?"

"Mmm-kay." Poland gets in position, and I start sawing through the vine. It's a pretty sturdy one—I guess you wouldn't want to set a trap with anything less—but I get through it within a minute. Liechtenstein drops to the ground, her feet just missing the next trap. Poland helps her up, and she thanks him and straightens out her dress.

"Thank you for helping," she says, curtseying a little. "Good luck out there, all right?" She turns and starts to walk away.

Poland is disappointed about this. "You, like don't want to stay and hang out with us?"

Liechtenstein stops and turns to face us. "Sorry, but I would rather stay on my own."

"But we could do, like, cool stuff! I could make you, like, a cool jungle dress, and... I wouldn't get one, too, because I like this shirt too much, but—" He cuts off, spinning to face me, and seizes my shoulders. "I just had, like, the awesomest idea!" He seems to think shaking me drives the point home. Is this what Lithuania has to deal with all the time...? "We should get, like, everybody on the island together and make, like, cool island-jungle clothes and party!" He pauses. "Except, like, maybe we shouldn't pick up Italy yet. Or the dead guys." He frowns, sensing his idea is losing steam.

"Well..." I glance over at Liechtenstein to find she's already disappeared.

Poland sees me looking and checks himself. "Aw, no! Like, why would she not want to hang out with us?"

"No idea," I sigh, carefully moving out of his grip. "Do you want to go back to the tree now?"

Poland heaves a big, dramatic sigh. "Fine." He cranes his neck towards the direction Liechtenstein probably went. "Since _somebody's_ not cool enough to, like, party with us!"

I find the nearest tree mark and start to walk back. "You at least had a more exciting time than you thought, just going for water, right?"

"Like, yeah, I guess."

I shake my head and keep walking. I don't think this place is ever going to have his type of excitement.

And I think I'd really rather avoid the type it would have.


	33. Drive You Mad

Author's Note: While I'd rather not repost the entire long timeline, I will go ahead and tell you where the pieces are, if you'd like to start keeping track. I have stretches posted in chapters 13, 17, 24, 27, and 32. Just so you don't have to hunt through *all* of the A/Ns.

Thanks for all of the reviews, everyone~~~! I forgot to mention freaking out about hitting FOUR HUNDRED (I seriously think we're going to top _Miserable'_s review count), so AAAAAAAH. There we are.

Just, thanks for sticking with this for so long. Hopefully you won't mind me going on with it a little longer. Or probably a lot longer.

So, just keep reading and just keep reviewing, and we'll all live happily ever after. (Not making any promises for the characters, but I'll hand out some bars of chocolate-flavored denial if necessary.)

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><p><em>Japan<em>

Two days have passed since I killed Russia. And much to my despair, I haven't found another nation since. Although, not having found any water recently, either, I can't be entirely blamed for that.

But that will not be my excuse. I have to keep moving. There are still several lives in the balance, and I owe it to them to find them as quickly as possible. And the situation is only getting more urgent. Based on the conditions of a few bodies I've passed by, we're taking longer to come back, multiple days even. So even if I kill someone while they still have immortality, it could well leave them before they're able to come back. I must find my nation as soon as I can possibly manage.

Unfortunately, I can't manage much at this point. I'll keep going, of course, but it's difficult. I feel horribly dried out, aided by the fact I'm no longer soaking in sweat. That, in turn, makes me feel even more overheated. I'm sure I am, considering the red of my skin and how quickly I've been breathing. My heart rate's up as well, though I'm not sure if it's that or just the heat that's giving me such a headache. I'm also exhausted, of course. But I can't rest now. I'll wait until nightfall.

It would probably be much wiser to do my hunting at night. But I had enough difficulty seeing when I was more well than this. My priority is finding those I haven't yet killed, not my health.

I continue to make my way through the trees, trying not to pant too loudly. I won't have much speed on my side anymore, so I must at least avoid detection. My footfalls are still quiet enough, and most of my muscle cramps haven't been painful enough to evoke a verbal response, so heavy breathing is going to be my biggest problem.

I would be doing the rounds on my snares again, but I'm not sure where they are. Or, I don't know where I am. I've lost all sense of direction, and even when I check the shards of glaring sun between leaves, I'm soon enough wandering far in some other direction. I don't have much of a method but keep searching. Whether they're in my condition or resting a lot more, most of the others should be relatively stationary. But... who was I looking for again? I haven't killed China, but I promised to get back to him last...

Slowing my pace, I try to recount who all is on the island. If I only hadn't tossed aside my briefcase, this would have been so much easier... But anyway. There were twenty of us. So, me, China I haven't killed, Russia, Belarus, Latvia, Estonia, Lithuania I didn't have to kill, Poland, Germany, Italy, Austria and Hungary I haven't killed, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, France, Spain, America, and Canada I haven't killed. Is that everyone?

I count on my fingers before realizing I left out two. But I just counted Canada, so I didn't miss him...

After another minute, I figure that I missed England and Romano. But I've killed them both, so... Left should be Austria, Hungary, China, and Canada. Just those four. I'm close to finishing this. I just have to push myself a little longer.

Easier said than done. I've been pushing myself the whole time—I'm past running on empty. I'm not even completely sure when the last time I ate was. I've found some roots since, but I can't make myself eat them. I'm too dried out. I can't even imagine opening my mouth further without surely cracking and tearing my lips more. I'm not hungry anymore, either. Just tired.

But I'll keep going. I have no other real choice.

I pick up the pace again, though it's still rather slow, and try to keep my alertness up. Austria, Hungary, China, Canada. Or, just Austria or Hungary. I have a good idea where the Allies group is, on the beach where smoke often rises. I'm not sure where it is from here, since they aren't lighting a fire right now, but I'll be able to locate them if I must. My highest hopes are that I find Austria or Hungary soon, and whoever I find next is the one I must kill. Though right now I'm just hoping I'll be able to _find_ one of them...

Still pushing away the desire to lie down and rest, I walk on. There's a slight breeze, but it doesn't help much. Without any sweat to blow at, it's just a blast of heat.

I run into another blast of heat when I suddenly come upon the shore. I instinctively retreat a step back into the shade and then gaze out at the shimmering water. So much water... Why can't it be fresh...?

Wait... It's not fresh, right? I... Yes, I already checked that.

...But that was a different part of the island. I'm in a different place, and at a different time, and if something's taking away our immortality, surely anything's possible here. And it really can't hurt to check, can it?

Stepping back out into the unblocked sunlight, I start to realize how desperate I sound. But... let's just check...

I kneel down by the water and scoop up a little pool of water the size of a hundred-yen coin. It's salty. No less than would be expected of seawater. I try not to be too disappointed. There wasn't much hope for this, anyway. But there's so much of that water, and I'm just so thirsty...

But it's time to move on. This is no more drinkable than the sand heating my ankles.

—So why am I drinking it?

It takes me a minute to register that I am indeed shoving handfuls of saltwater into my mouth. Freezing, I spit out what I can and try to wipe my lips dry, though I come away with more blood on my hand than water. What... What in the world am I doing...?

I back away from the shore, wiping my hands on my thighs. I retreat back to the tree line panting. What did I just do? What...

I lean against the tree for a moment before making myself get up. I-I can't have drunk that much. I... I just need to keep moving.

I do so, staying just inside of the woods where I'm not being completely roasted. My pulse quivers in my fingers as I pull myself along. It seems dangerously rapid. But I've had a bit of a scare. And I've been this sort of dizzy for a day or so, so I'm sure it's fine.

After a while of struggling to keep my mind and body on my mission, I finally notice some movement in the distance. Not trees or animals, but figures I'm sure are nations. At last... Just please be someone I need...

I try to get my breathing under control as I step lightly towards them. At this point, I don't care much if it's the Allies group. They never accepted my word, anyway, so it wouldn't really be so wrong to break... I'll apologize later—I just have to get out of here...

But as I pull closer, I realize it's not the Allies. It's more than I could have hoped for. Both Austria and Hungary—why hadn't I suspected they might be together?—are at the beach, Austria sitting and Hungary adjusting a stone on the ground. They don't seem to have noticed me. If I just creep up silently and quickly attack, it can all be over, right here and now.

I get within decent range, hiding behind a thicker tree to prepare myself. I can't bother trying to explain my side and hear theirs. I doubt I can talk at this point, anyway. So I'll definitely attack Hungary first, since I'm sure to be caught after the first hit. Hopefully I'll be able to take Austria in this condition. Hopefully I'll be able to even get the first vital hit in, in this condition. But with enough willpower, I am confident I can handle this.

I snatch a quick glance back at them to see if their positions have changed and then get back behind the tree. Austria's still seated, and Hungary's looking out at the ocean. I withdraw my katana, taking a moment to get used to the weight. Then I turn around and dart for Hungary.

At the edge of the grass, the ground caves in beneath my foot. With a gasp, I start to tip forward before Hungary's even in range, and I barely catch myself before I fall face first. I keep my grip on my sword, but the hole I fell in isn't big enough for my foot to turn with my leg. Gritting my teeth as my ankle twists more than it's supposed to, I start to pull myself up.

By now Hungary has discovered my presence. She stands above me, withdrawing her frying pan. "Caught some big game with this one."

I've just dragged my foot out of the rabbit-sized pitfall trap when Hungary brings her heel down on my right wrist. Just able to keep myself from losing my grip on the katana, I try to tug my hand back, but it's a useless effort.

"I told Italy I wouldn't get revenge for him," she says, looking down at me coldly, "but I didn't make any promises."

The pan is centimeters from my head before I even notice she had started to swing. I push myself to the side with my free arm, and I pivot enough for her to miss all but my ear. I try to reach for her leg before she can swing again, but I don't move fast enough. As the pan comes plummeting down, I wrench my arm around. The effect on her leg isn't enough to topple her, but she does have to pause her attack to regain her balance. Digging my nails in, I try again. She still doesn't fall, but her weight shifts to the balls of her feet, and most of the pressure comes off my right wrist. I snake my hand away from her and, not sure if she's attacking, roll away a few times before I try to get back up.

Panting far too much for my liking, I take a second to look back over. There's a dent in the ground by Hungary's feet, but she has already lifted the pan back up and is coming towards me.

I struggle to pull myself up with branches, but my arms are tired, and one hand is occupied and half-numb. Having to settle for a seated position for now, I ready my katana as Hungary closes the gap between us and swings. I duck and, though the sudden motion makes my head swim, duck again when she swings the other way.

There's no chance I can get at her neck from here. And if she's been in contact with Italy at a point he would want revenge, she'll know how I've been killing and be prepared. It looks like I may not have the convenience of killing her quickly here...

I scoot back a bit at the next swing and try again to pull myself to my feet. I may only be able to put weight on one foot at this point, but that's better than sitting.

Finally rising, I lean a bit against the tree while Hungary swings again. I hop away and try a slice at her jugular, but she blocks with her weapon. Pushing off to give myself a little more room, I bound back a bit more and prepare to swing.

I really don't think I'm going to get her neck. I couldn't surprise her, I'm not quick enough, and she knows that's where I've been aiming. I could go for her heart, but I don't have enough confidence in my aim anymore. My sword's starting to dull, and if I hit bone first, I get nowhere. Even if I somehow end up with her pan, I don't think I'd have the strength to swing it hard enough at her skull for that sort of kill. But everything else I can imagine takes too long, is too painful...

...But what should I care...? She already has a vendetta against me, and above all else I must kill her. Do whatever it takes, just _kill_ her.

After blocking a jarring hit with my arms, I lunge and thrust my blade through her midsection. Her breath catches in her throat as I rip the sword back out. Struggling to keep my balance, I end up leaning back against a tree. I look back over at Hungary, who's hunched over a bit but far from ready to stop fighting. I can't hop out of the way in time for her next hit to miss me.

As the area around my cheekbone crunches, I go to the ground. The breath is knocked out of me, and I struggle to suck in air before the splotches buzzing across my vision take over. There's no time for that. She's not dead yet.

Still gasping and not quite sure what's going on around me, I drag myself a bit before trying to prop myself up against a bush. Shuffling my foot around so I can turn, I see Hungary preparing to swing with the arm she doesn't have over her stomach. She brings the frying pan around, and I shove myself further into the brush to dodge. Her arm keeps moving away from me for a moment, and I scrabble to get myself free of the leaves, making another strike for her stomach.

I only slice air as she suddenly jerks backward, Austria's hand on her shoulder. Adjusting my wrist, I swing back the other way while I'm still falling forward. The blade tears through skin and muscle until about her navel, then only reaches skin, then only fabric. But I still did enough damage for her to double over, trying to clutch her wound shut.

I angle my katana out of the way as I continue tilting forward and hit the ground. The impact exacerbates the pulses of pain in my cheek, and for a moment I fear I won't be able to get back up. The chunk of metal crashing onto my back doesn't help, but it's not strong enough for me to think Hungary did anything but drop it.

Glancing over as the dull metal rolls a bit farther away, I try again to push myself up. With the recent expenditure of energy and the ground starting to get slick with blood, it seems impossible. But I can't say Hungary will certainly die, and I cannot let her, or Austria, finish me off. I do not have time to lie down and die. So... get... up...!

I push myself to my knees. Hungary is reaching with her right arm to pick up the frying pan, her other arm already coated with a film of blood. Austria, watching me carefully, stands beside her with a knife in his hand. I just kneel here trying to catch my breath, until Hungary decides to attack again.

Letting myself fall forward to dodge, I land on one hand and push myself right back up. I only spare a glance to check my opponents' positions before I aim my katana and lunge upwards. Ignoring the flash of pain from my twisted ankle, I force the blade through part of the wound not covered by Hungary's arm. Before my hand contacts her blood, I sharply tilt the katana to pierce her diaphragm, lung, and, with any luck, heart.

She starts to collapse backward, and I can't get my sword out before her weight sends me down as well. I've only managed to remove some of the hilt and my hand before something sharp dives between my ribs. More stunned than in pain, I sit here a moment. Another pierce a bit above it, and I register something off with my heartbeat.

—I'm being stabbed! Why am I just sitting here?

Pulling the rest of the katana out, I spin around and slash blindly. The knife slides out of my back, and I hear Austria cry out. I'm not sure where I've hit him, as my vision's all but gone now. Just let it be lethal... Maybe he's my nation...

I vaguely sense myself crash to the ground, splashing into some of the blood. Starting to curl up, I close my eyes. I can't consciously move at all now, so I suppose I'll have to rest after all...

Just... don't die... Remember, you can't... afford to at this point... Just rest a bit... and maybe you'll be better in the morning...

Unable to keep breathing, I let myself fade.

Just... don't stay dead...


	34. Been Waiting For This Moment

Author's Note: As you may have noticed, I changed the cover of the story. There's still a piece of paper on one of the trees, but it's harder to see. (The other picture was better, but it wasn't actually mine, so... ehe. Here's one I actually took.)

And, ack, thanks so much for more reviews! I'm so glad there are so many people reading this, and I really appreciate the comments from people just starting to read this, too, so... yay for you. Keep it up. :3

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><p><em>America<em>

I have no idea where I am right now. I wasn't paying all that much attention to the trees when I was hunting down Canada, so...

And I have no idea where Canada is, either. Gah! Forget who you're chasing for—for two seconds, and that's it. And... after I lost track, it probably wasn't the best idea to keep running, but maybe he was still going the same direction, right? He wasn't, but, you know, it was worth a shot, so it was totally smart for me to keep running. It's not like I would have known where I was back another mile more than I know now, anyway.

So I'm just going to keep walking this way until I hit the coast, and then I'll walk the coast until I get back to camp. No point turning around in here, or I'll just end up walking in circles. Not that I haven't caught myself walking in a circle or two this way, but I still know where I'm going. It's just kind of taking forever.

Of course, that's because I haven't had food in, like, a month. I've found one spindly little tomato plant out here, but it didn't have enough fruit to top a burger. Ate it anyway, obviously, but it wasn't much. Ohh, why didn't I bring more crap to the meeting? And it would have been nice to at least have the 105-oz. cup I left in the room, even if I already drank all of the soda.

So I've been woefully unprepared for all of this. But no matter the hunger or despair or obstacles or hunger, I will persevere like a true hero! No matter how many of us turn to the dark side, I will remain a fortress of justice and goodness!

I exhale. A lot of us have been turning to the dark side, though. Russia—well, he was already over there, anyway—Japan, France, Canada... Seriously, what's up with this? Some of that I kind of get, but Canada? I wasn't thinking about it at the time, but that's just... not right for him. I think the most logical explanation is that he was being temporarily controlled by the aliens to get me to turn against him. And I did run after him for an hour or two, but I caught their game before I could hurt him, so take that!

And I'm going to keep foiling their plans. It's incredibly obvious this whole thing is just a test to see if we'll all turn on each other and kill each other for our own lives. You know, see if we're a species worth keeping. I saw a movie once that was kind of like this, except it was humans, and there wasn't The Rules, but, you know, similar enough.

But they're not going to see this test to its conclusion. They've taken all sorts of measures to keep us stuck here, but I know there's a way out. And I'm going to find it, because the hero's the one that has to get everybody out safely.

"And I'm the hero!"

I just felt that needed to be said out loud.

Wiping more sweat off with my sleeve, I push through more trees. Blaugh, it's so hot out here. Today there are actually quite a few clouds, but they're nowhere near the sun.

After another band of trees, I'm suddenly on the beach. Not in the right place, but I wasn't expecting that. But whoo! Finally here! Now I just have to circle around for a while until I find England and China. And maybe even Canada, if he's back and he doesn't remember what he did. Of course, he'd probably have some trouble getting back, too.

I step across the sand, looking forward. No big blood stains over here. Can't smell much but the saltwater, either. I'm probably pretty far. But I can make it! It'll take a lot of heroic resolve to make up for the lack of food, but that's no problem, not for me!

Marching onward, I keep going for another hour or so before something ahead catches my eye. I don't think it's camp, and its starting to smell like blood, so I go ahead carefully.

It's just an "S.O.S." made with rocks. There's not a white flag by it, so I don't think it was set up by Italy's group. Of course, they broke up pretty soon after Japan immediately killed everybody.

"America?" The voice is so weak I can't identify it, but I look over my shoulder into the forest anyway.

"Holy—!"

I'm guessing the one that said my name was Austria, since he's the only one that looks vaguely alive right now. He's on his belly, leaning on his elbows and forearms just out of range of all of the blood that's not trickling off his lower back. And most of the blood seems to have come from Hungary, who's lying face-up, blood all over her midsection and a little dried around her mouth. Japan's just a little further back, fingers loose around the hilt of his sword, which has every inch covered in blood. The rest of him is sort of curled up, and a little extra accumulation of blood—over the shirt that's so red-soaked it's starting to crumble—runs down his back.

Japan... Japan, Japan, _Japan_! Why did you do this, why are you still doing this? I told you not to kill anyone! I told you you didn't have to! I told you I'm getting everybody off the island, including you, and... And why didn't you just trust me? I know you don't trust me to return your video games, and that's probably for good reason, but we're talking about your life. The hero's not going to let anybody here die, especially not one of his only friends! Just... quit stabbing me in the back, dude. Okay? And you should quit stabbing other people in the back, too.

Turning my attention to Austria, I look at his back and ask him if there's anything else wrong.

"Not really." He fidgets, looking at the bodies blankly as I peel some of his shirt away from the wound. "He didn't even hit me with the right side of his sword; that's only from the tip."

"Huh?" I glance over at Japan's body. I try, "Was he... not trying to kill you?"

"I'm sure he was." He sucks in a breath as I pull away some bloodied fibers. "Though it was after I stabbed him, so it wasn't his most calculated shot."

I roll up the bottom half of his shirt to keep it out of the way and start ripping strips of cloth from my sleeves. "But he still managed to slice up Hungary?"

Austria takes a slow breath. "That was while Hungary was fighting him. I stayed out of her way for most of the battle, and then he went down after cutting through the front of her stomach. He was barely alive when he attacked us in the first place, and he wasn't getting up, so I was sure he was dead. I was going to get some moss to help soak up the blood when he shoved his sword up through her lung." He clears his throat. "I stabbed him after that, but it was too late for Hungary."

"Oh, moss! That's a good idea. Do you still have some?" I toss the to-be bandages over my shoulder and look for the stuff.

It's a minute before Austria responds. "I dropped it somewhere back there."

"Okay, sweet." I search the ground behind him for a while until I find the big wad of hanging moss. Scooping it up, I walk back over to Austria and squat down by the puncture wound. "This'll probably hurt, especially since there's a little dirt in it, so be ready."

He doesn't say anything, so I glance at his face. It's resting against the ground, since his arms have gone slack, and his eyes are closed.

"Uh... Austria?" Still nothing. His face is pale, but the wound's still bleeding some, so it's not like he's dead. But he must be in trouble. Luckily enough, I arrived in the nick of time to save him!

I rip off a separate clump of moss and wipe away some of the blood around the hole before getting the rest situated on the bandage. I start to lift him so I can get a stretch of cloth under him, but my hand's off-center, so he tilts a little. A gush of blood suddenly flows down from the wound, and I yelp and drop him. The blood flow dribbles back off, but I'm not sure what to do next. Probably not that again.

I go ahead and wipe the fresh blood off him and look at the wound again. It's a second before I realize it's not bleeding anymore.

"H-Hey! Austria!" I guess I shouldn't have expected a response since he's been unconscious. Pushing my fingers to the side of his neck, I check his pulse. I don't feel anything—wait. I think there's still a tiny bit of throbbing.

"Hang in there, okay?" I back off and try to figure out what to do. Uh... CPR? Except I'd have to flip him over, and that's probably a bad idea. Uh... Crap.

I put my arms around my knees and frown. "Please don't die, okay? I'll get you all out of here... Just don't die..."

After another second, I check again. Still nothing at first. It doesn't get any better, though, this time. He's dead.

I stand, dropping the moss and tying the strips of fabric across my shoulder. All three of them dead on the ground, and all I can do is stand here and look.

"Rgh!" I punch a tree—a pretty tough one, apparently—and go back to the shore. Trying to remember which way I approached the "S.O.S," I start back around. I'm just going to find China and England, and-and convince England it's not about magic so he can help me, because I have to figure out another way to get off and I'm running out of ideas.

I keep going along the shore, kicking at a few shells. About the time I start to figure it's getting cooler, a drop hits my shoulder. Glancing up at the sky, I see the clouds have gotten a lot darker since I last looked. Another raindrop hits my glasses before I look back ahead of me and keep going.

Rain, huh? That's good. I haven't had anything to drink for a while, unless you count tomato juice. It's just sprinkling, though, so it's not enough to drink yet. Just enough to be depressing. 'Cause everything else here isn't depressing enough.

I walk a while further before slowly coming to a stop and looking up again. The rain's picking up a little, so I only see the clouds for a minute before my glasses are warbled with water.

There's nothing weird about the clouds here, right? They didn't come in crazy fast, or turn rainy super fast, and they move across the sky pretty normally. The rain's been perfectly fine water, and it doesn't seem anything else now. So... If the clouds outside the island and outside the barrier can come in, and water can get to us from them... Shouldn't we be able to go the other way? Up to the cloud level and out with them?

"Yes, I'm gonna build a fricking airplane!" I shout, jumping and thrusting a fist into the air. Feeling inspired again, I pick up the pace and go running across the shore, more fricking awesome rain falling in puddles on the sand.

Okay, so, it's not going to be any cool metal propeller-type ones, but I could totally do a Wright-brothers-type thing. And the wood'll be easy enough to deal with. As for the canvas stuff, uh... We'll probably have to use clothing and leaves, but I think we could work that out, too. I really only have to make it big enough for two nations, since I could just come back after the first trip and keep ferrying everybody...

Hahahahaha! Yes! This is the plan I've been waiting for all along! I'm getting us all out of here!

I whoop, running for a while longer before I finally start to slow down. Normally, I'd still be going, but my limbs have just felt kind of heavy for a couple of days. Man, I need food. But I can get all I want once I finally get us all home. And that's going to be soon. Haha!

I keep walking and walking, and it keeps raining and raining, and about the time I think I should think about making shelter for the night, I see some figure in the distance. It's sort of on the border between the sand and trees, but it's still at the beach. I'm pretty sure it's a nation, but is it one of my alliance?

Ah, who cares? I'll have to gather everybody together for our trip off, so I'd better get to started now, anyway.

Pushing myself, I draw nearer to the figure and eventually make out more details. It's England. Definitely England. And... I think he's still kind of dead. THe blood's just now being washed from him, and he's still crumpled on the ground like when I left him. China didn't move him or anything? I mean, I know he hates England, but we all kinda do. On second thought, I probably wouldn't have done much with his corpse, either, so never mind.

I walk over to where he is and at least set him up against a tree. Yes, he is most definitely still dead. Ew.

...How long has it been, anyway? Since a possessed Canada turned on him? Like... Holy crap, hasn't it been more than two days?

"Uh, England?" I snap my fingers in front of his face. "You're about to come back, right?" Apparently not right this minute.

Crap... Two days, and—I check—his heart's not even beating yet. What...

But that's okay. He's not dead for good. Nobody's going to be dead for good, because I'm getting them all off the island before that can happen. Because I'm the hero, and there's no way I'm going to leave anybody for dead. So yeah. He'll be fine. I should probably go ahead and get started on the plane, though. If I can manage after all that running on an empty stomach... Wow, I really am tired...

Just as I step over towards the trees to go ahead and check out the wood, something crashes down on my head. My knees buckle and send me to the ground. Feeling blood seeping into my hair, I look around for what hit me. Please tell me there's not a random coconut tree here we never noticed.

Well, there's no coconut tree. But there's China, bringing his wok towards my head. I'm so tired and disorientated I don't really think to get out of the way and/or kick him sky-high.

The metal edge cuts into my forehead before the flash of fiery pain, and everything goes black.


	35. I Can't Take Any More

Author's Note: I have no idea how this one came out so fast. Enjoy, anyway.

Reviews... *heart*... That's as creative as I can get after churning this out so quickly, sorry...

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><p><em>Italy<em>

They're never coming back. I thought they weren't before, but I know they aren't now, because it was too long then but it's way too long now. It's the third morning since Romano died, and he's still not here, and Spain's not here, either, and they're both still dead, and they're both staying dead because it's been too long and they're still rotting. I don't really know that since I haven't looked at them since I got up here, but I know they are because they're still dead and that's what people do when they're dead, especially when there's all this heat and bugs and rain, and they're just down there rotting because I can't do anything and never could do anything.

And since I can't do anything, I've been screaming for Germany to help me, and I don't really think he can hear me because I can't hear me anymore but I'm still screaming. And my mouth's dry even though it's still raining, and my throat feels like something clawed it up, but I'm still screaming. Because Germany has to save me, because I can't do this anymore, and everybody but Germany is either dead or trying to kill me, and Japan's not going to help me, and I need help. Nobody's acting right here, and everybody's dying here, and my own brother's dead here, and I can't be here anymore. Because everybody's crazy or dead, and I'm scared, and don't want to be alone. But I'm alone because Germany's gone, and Japan abandoned me, and Romano's dead, and Spain's dead, and they're all staying dead, and I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I want to be with them, except they're dead, and I'm too scared to die, and I just have to get out of here, and please help me, Germany. I can't do this, I just can't do this...

Curling up a little tighter since the rain that's been pouring since yesterday is so cold, I keep screaming for help. I can almost hear myself this time, but my voice sounds as ragged as my throat. And it hurts worse when I yell, but I can't stop, and everything hurts, anyway, just everything...

Please come soon, Germany. I know you have to have been looking for me, but you have to hurry up and come now, because I'm scared, and I want to go home, and I probably don't deserve to, but you have to take me home. I can't be here anymore, and I can't kill anybody because then somebody else would feel like I do, and I can't do that to anybody. So you have to get me off yourself, because I don't know what else I'm supposed to do, because all I can do is run and scream and that's not working.

I think the rain's getting a little lighter, but it's been sort of coming in waves since it started, anyway. It hasn't rained this long here before, so it's probably just proof that Romano's dead and Spain's dead and everybody else is dead, and God's crying. At least I'm not the only one bawling. It's almost a little less lonely, but not really at all.

My stomach's growling again, but I just ignore it again. I don't care. If Germany doesn't get me soon, I'll just starve. I don't want to, and I don't know if I mean that, but I don't really care. I just give up. I give up.

The rain quiets down a little more when I hear somebody call my name. I just ignore it. It doesn't sound like Germany, and he's the only one that's going to be trying to get me away from here any more, and there's nothing else I can do so that's all I want. I ignored Poland when he was trying to talk to me, and I don't think he hated me for it, and I didn't hear him get killed a little bit afterwards, so I think ignoring everything is the best thing I can do of the few things I can still do. So I just ignore whoever's calling my name and try not to fall down since all of the branches are slippery.

Whoever it is eventually stops, but I hear some branches rustling. Please don't kill me. I can't do anything about it, and I don't even know why I care anymore, but please don't kill me. I don't want to die, too.

It's just a second before I realize some of the branches moving are those underneath me. My next "help" catches in my throat as I suddenly go crashing down. I flail my arms, screaming for help louder, but I don't stop moving until I'm just a little bit more above the ground. Everything hurting even more now as I lean back against the wood, I struggle to call Germany's name again when I've started crying harder.

"Hey!" the other voice says weakly. I try to ignore whoever it is as I hear slow footsteps coming towards me, but I can't help but tremble more. Please don't kill me, please don't kill me...

"Why the fuck are you calling on _him_ for help?"

Hesitating, I slowly look down on the nation below me, but I can't really see him through the tears and rain and leaves. But there's no way...

"Seriously, he's not even here. Veneziano, you idiot."

But he was calling me Veneziano earlier, too, and... I'm hearing things and seeing things, or-or-or...

Gasping down breath, I clamber down the last couple of sets of branches and fall to the ground and hit my back.

The other nation gets to his knees next to me and sighs. "I would have helped you down, but since you'd never fucking think to ask me for help when you can ask Potato Brains—"

"Romano," I finally choke out, lurching up to hug him and sobbing into his chest. He falls back under my weight, but I don't let him go because he's alive, Romano's alive, my brother's okay, and everything's going to be okay, and my brother's not dead, and it's going to be all right...

I'm crying so hard I can't even really breathe past the lump in my throat, and I'm almost kind of dizzy, but I can't stop sobbing because I knew he was dead, but he's okay, a-and... Romano...!

After a minute, Romano hugs me back a little and sighs. "I guess I'm pretty damn glad to be alive, too." I think I hear him sniffle, but it's kind of hard to tell since I'm sniffling a lot.

I don't know how long I stay here blubbering before I kind of start to calm down. The rain's almost stopped, though.

Gasping heavily for breath, I finally pull myself away. But one look at Romano, looking at me and breathing and alive, and I have to hug him again. "Roma-ahno..."

"Seriously?" Romano sighs and slowly sits up, sort of taking me with him. Before I can pull away a second time, he carefully pries me off and pushes me back a little. "I know you've been worried, but was that really necessary?"

It's really hard to get words out, but I eventually stammer, "Y-you were g-gone for a-almost four d-days. I thought... I-I thought for sure..."

"Four days?" He looks at his hands, which are still a little marbled, and makes a disgusted face. "Not too much longer than that out here, and we won't even have decent bodies to come back to..." He looks back at me before glancing at either of my sides. "So, uh... where's Spain?"

Shivering, I look down at my feet. It doesn't take Romano long to figure out why I don't want to say anything.

"What happened to him, then?" he asks, voice dry. By the time I meet his gaze to tell him, he turns enough to see where Spain's body is still splayed over the ground. Making a swallowing sound, he staggers over, and I follow him, not feeling much more energetic. And then Spain looks so much worse up close, I can't look at him anymore. I watch Romano instead. He looks down shaking.

"I asked you... What the fuck happened to him?" he says, voice trembling as much as the rest of him.

It feels horrible just saying it, but I make myself. "B-bi..." I swallow. "...France s-stabbed him and went home."

"When?"

"Th-the night after y-you died."

"A whole day after, huh?" he says quietly before suddenly breaking into a grin that doesn't look right. "So he'll probably take longer than I just did to come back. If he comes back. Maybe what I said then were my last words to him, after all!" And then he starts laughing really loud, and he doesn't stop.

"R-Romano!" I take his shoulder, but he doesn't seem to notice. "Romano! A-are you okay?"

He stops laughing just long enough to get out, "I'm just fine!" and then breaks down giggling again.

Quivering, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him back a little. "Romano, stop it! You're scaring me..."

He slows down a little bit, taking longer breaths and shorter wheezing laughs, until he finally swallows and stops. He sits there staring at Spain's corpse for a minute, either tears or rain running down his cheeks.

"Sorry," he mumbles eventually, rubbing the backs of his hands on his cheeks. "I... I'm okay now." He pushes himself up and turns away, watching the rain stream down the trees instead. I stand up next to him.

After drinking a few puddles of rain that fall into his hands, my brother asks, "Have you collected any of the rainwater yet?"

"Huh?" I look at him for a second. "O-oh! In the bottles? Uh-uh." I shuffle through Germany's jacket and get out the bottles, putting them upright in the mud. I don't think the rain's leaving just yet, so maybe we'll even get them all full. So, I'll get them all full, and then...

Romano's definitely crying now, even though he's still just staring into the trees, his fists trembling at his sides. And all of this just because I let France have that knife...

Starting to think, I lean against a tree for a minute. I think... I don't know, but... Would it be better if...

I... I think so... After everything that's happened to everybody around me... I think...

"R-Romano?" I wrap myself tighter in the jacket as he turns to look at me.

"What?"

"I..." Swallowing hard, I wonder if I really want to say this. "I'm... going to leave."

Romano watches me. "Leave?"

I nod slowly. "I... I need to leave you, leave everybody. I'm gonna go off on my own."

"Veneziano." He lowers his eyebrows. "What are you talking about? Have you lost it?"

I shake my head. "No. I... I just..." Taking a breath, I start somewhere else. "You and Spain never even got attacked before I ran into you, did you?"

"No, but I don't—"

"And then I led Russia right to you guys. And I gave Japan the sword he used to kill you, and I gave France the knife he used to kill Spain, and you wouldn't have died this last time, either, if you weren't sitting there recovering from dying because of me, and everyone I've ever run into here gets killed, and I bet Austria and Hungary are dead, too, and I can't keep doing this to everybody, e-especially not you, a-and the only way to do that is to get far a-away from everybody and hide, so I-I'm leaving."

My brother just stares at me for a minute.

"O-oh!" I start, putting my hand back in the jacket. I pull out the knife, take Romano's hand, and close his fingers around the hilt. "Th-that's the knife Latvia killed you with. You'd b-better take it so if I get killed, n-nobody can take it and hurt you with it."

"Veneziano..." Romano looks at the knife and then shakes his head, trying to give it back. "No! You can't leave! What are you going to do out there, all alone?"

"I'll just run and hide." I swallow, wishing my throat didn't hurt so, so much. But I guess that's my fault, too, anyway. "It'll be really scary, and I don't know if I'll live, but I have to do this. I-I can't stay with you when all it's going to do is get you killed again and probably killed for good." I force the weapon back into his hand and start to pull away.

Romano grabs my arm. "But don't leave _me_ here all alone, dammit!"

"Brother..." I sniffle, smiling at him. "You're... You're not alone. Spain'll be back just fine any day now, a-and he'll protect you, s-so it'll be all right..."

Romano's crying a little bit louder now. "Veneziano... Y-you're a horrible liar, y-you know that?"

"S-sorry." I inhale shakily. "Maybe I-I'm too worried, but th-that doesn't mean I'm right. He can still come back. I p-promise. Okay?"

Romano looks down and doesn't respond when I tug my arm out of his grasp. He looks up, sniffling and shaking. "Please don't leave me alone out here..."

I cry a little harder myself and hug him. "It's going to be o-okay. And you can run away just as good with me as without me. I-it's more dangerous if I stay with you, all right? I-I wouldn't leave you alone if I w-wasn't sure about that." I pull back and smile. "Just d-don't let anybody hurt you, okay? I love you, brother."

And with that I spin around and bolt for it. Romano calls my name, but I'm not sure if he's following me. I just keep running, trying not to slip around too much on the mud. I just keep running, trying not to think about how easy it would be for anybody standing around wherever I'm going to jump over and kill me. I just keep running, hoping Romano won't try to follow me so I don't have to keep hurting him. I just keep running, hoping I'm finally doing something right here.

I just keep running.


	36. Can't Afford to Be Innocent

Author's Note: OVER FOUR HUNDRED FIFTY *explodes*

In other news, fan art! Was introduced to one for the last chapter at EmeraldEyesOfThunder .deviantart [dotcomslash] art/I-Love-You-Brother-314830034 . Check it out, and if you've been sneaking around making fan art, feel free to drop it in the reviews for us.

x3 I can't believe how popular this is getting...

Also, I'll be absent from computers during the week of the 22nd. I might have the next chapter up before then, but I'm not completely sure. So, be prepared for a lack of updates while I'm away frolicking.

Reviews~~~! Pretty please~~~! With tildes on top~~~!

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><p><em>Liechtenstein<em>

I wake up around sunrise. After lingering curled up a while, I carefully sit up and look around. I don't see anyone, so I carefully climb down to the lower nest and check again. Still nothing but grass and leaves. I make sure everything's still in my pocket before climbing down.

Well, maybe it's more of a pouch than a pocket. This is—was—one of my nicer dresses, so it didn't have any pockets. But I can't just carry around all of the knives and guns and water bottles, and I can't leave anything behind, or it'll disappear. I'm still not sure what exactly happened to my shoes after I left them alone in the tree, but they're definitely gone now. That's all right. The mud really feels a lot nicer on my feet than they did. They were getting awfully torn up, too.

So now it's just my feet getting torn up, but it's not that bad. I can handle a few scratches, and I haven't been walking around much, anyway. Thanks to the rain, I haven't had to search for water recently. It ended about noon yesterday, though, so I only have one full plastic bottle now. But I drank a lot while the rain was pouring, so I think I should be able to manage a meal today.

Keeping my guard up, I continue through the trees until I reach a rotting log. I have to pry away some of the wood before I find a few squirming, whitish grubs. Carefully setting the wood down, I pick out a grub, squeeze out what's in it, and put it my mouth.

Eating these isn't a pleasant experience by any means, but food is food. And don't insects have more protein than meat, proportionally? So they're less trouble than trying to shoot anything down and cook, and they're still relatively nutritious.

Then, it doesn't make that much sense that Switzerland stopped me from eating them earlier. But... That was probably less about my health. He just didn't want to see me resorting to eating squirming insects.

After a minute to recover from the crunch and goop from the first grub, I ready another one and sigh. Brother... I know he didn't end up coming the day he said, but he's still coming. I know that much. He'd never leave me here, not when he can't even bear the sight of me eating maggots, not with other nations on the offensive. It has been a while, but he'll come. I have no reason to believe he won't.

I hope he's not working himself too hard, though. I'm not having much fun, but I'm doing all right. It rains often enough I haven't died of dehydration, and there are enough little bites to keep me from starving. Of course I'm hungry, but that's all right. It may have been a while, but it's nothing new to me. I'm still strong enough to look for food with guns in tow, so the situation's not that dire. I wish I could tell my brother that, just so he could calm down, because he must be imagining the worst right now.

But then, the worst wouldn't be me slowly starving, would it? That I've done before. That's slow and quiet, especially compared to what else might happen to me out here. What has happened.

This time the thought doesn't send my hand flying to the side of my neck. I guess it's been long enough for me to recover. Of course, I haven't had much to do here but sit and think it over, so that may have helped.

The main worry now, then, is something of the sort happening again. Japan won't come after me again, and I'm sure there are quite a few others who won't in the first place. I'm immensely grateful nations of that type were the ones that found me—what, three days ago?—hanging like that. It was very kind of them to help me down when killing me might be more advantageous to them.

I'm also grateful France didn't find me immobilized with my skirts over my head like that... He must have wandered off some other way after I dragged him from the tree the day Switzerland went home. And... yes. There's not much more to say about that.

I look around the area and then brace myself for the last grub I found. It goes down a little bit easier than the last two. After pawing through the wood a bit more, I obtain one more bite and then start back.

Though I must keep in mind that no matter what I expect of nations or what they've done at some point, they're dangerous. I can't let myself trust Estonia and Poland any more than I would trust Belarus. I can't afford to, especially in a situation like this. They're all my enemies and could change their minds and attack me at any time.

And I can't let myself die here. Of course, I don't like it and I can't help but be scared without my brother to protect me. But if he finally comes only to find me dead, he could be worrying for hours. And I've heard it can take even longer to come back if the damage is worse. I won't give my brother grounds for more stress than he already has. He may know I'm coming back, but if he can't even bear to watch me eat grubs, it would hurt so much worse to see me dead. And the last thing I would want to do is hurt him.

I keep my hands on a gun and my head on a swivel as I step quietly back towards my tree. I haven't found anyone yet, but I have to be vigilant. I haven't heard any other gunshots, so I have the fastest weapon. If someone comes for me, I'll be able to hit them first. I just have to find them first, too, and I'll be safe.

But I still have to get sort of lucky to hit them. Switzerland taught me how to fire a gun, but that was a long time ago, and I haven't really had the opportunity or the need to practice any more. But Urs spits out enough bullets at a time I should at least be able to scare anyone off if I don't lethally injure them.

Taking a deep breath, I approach my tree, bending to pick up some moss that's fallen down from one of the nests. I look around me, then carefully climb up, making sure no one's come into the tree since I was last here. There's still no sign of other nations, so I climb up into the top nest and settle down. Wiping a little mud off my feet with leaves, I pull my knees back in and sit.

Really, I don't like the idea of shooting nations myself. Killing them. I won't do it unless I really need to. But I will if I need to. It's terrible to die, but they're used to it. They can forgive me. I'd only do it to save my brother some pain, and surely they would accept that.

And there's still time. I haven't felt any sign that my immortality's fading, and I haven't seen anything unusual. I haven't really run into anyone but Estonia and Poland, but they seemed fine. Surely the situation can't be _that_ serious if Poland wanted me to come with him for the sake of making dresses. It's been a few days since, but I still haven't felt any different. Hungrier, maybe, but that's hardly suspicious.

I take a careful sip from my second water bottle. It's certainly not as cold as it was as rainwater, but it still tastes much nicer than whatever else I've had to drink here. I might have to save a bit of it, until I can't get clean enough water with the other bottle. To have something to look forward to, if my brother doesn't come before then.

Putting the lid back on, I place the bottle back in my pocket and look around. I still don't see anyone. Although it's so hot now you'd have to be crazy to roam around much. I'll wait until 5:00 or so before I try to find more food or a clean puddle of water. It should be cool enough by then, or at least as cool as it gets in the daytime here.

But the sun's straight up in the sky now, and I won't be going anywhere. I'll just keep myself in the shade and keep an eye out for others. Just like every other day.

It's a while before I see anything move, and it's just a bird. The rustling made me draw a gun, but I don't shoot. There's no need to attract attention, and I doubt I'd hit it, anyway, not with a submachine gun.

I've just started to replace Urs in my pocket when I catch another flicker of motion. Withdrawing the gun again, I quiet my breathing and shift to look over. Something greenish is moving around behind a screen of trees, but I can't quite tell what. It looks tall enough to be a nation, but I can't tell through the leaves. Who was wearing green...?

When he passes into the little clearing by my tree, I can tell which nation he is. And the reason I don't remember him wearing green is because that's just his skin. The sight, along with the stench starting to diffuse, is enough to make me feel sort of ill. What... What on earth happened to him? Is he... sick? Gangrenous? I don't know... He's still able to move, but there's definitely something wrong with him. I can't let him get near me, in case it's contagious.

I ready the gun but don't aim it at Russia just yet. He's not looking at me. If he just goes along like he is, I don't need to make any noise. All I have to do is stay silent and let him pass, and I shouldn't have any trouble, now or later.

Holding my breath, I watch poised as he comes across the grass and mud. He's still just going forward, panting, adjusting the shirt thrown over his shoulder. He's not even looking around much. I think I should be safe.

He vanishes form my vision behind a clump of my tree's leaves. I wait a second for him to pass before cautiously repositioning myself to see him. He's leaning against the bottom of the trunk, fanning himself with his hand and plucking at his scarf to get air under it. Oh, can't you stop and rest somewhere else? Please?

Unable to keep my breath held, I exhale soundlessly and take another breath in. He's still leaning down there, wiping some sweat off his forehead. He looks less green now—maybe it was just the light. He still doesn't look healthy, though. I'm not going to climb down that side of the tree for a while. And I really don't want to shoot him him, because I'm certainly not going to drag him anywhere. He's probably too heavy, anyway. So I'll just let him pass, if he ever gets going again.

After a little bit more resting, he finally pushes himself back off the wood and takes a step forward. Then he looks over his shoulder—and then up.

Biting my lip to keep myself from gasping, I duck back behind the leaves.

"Hello?" His voice is a little off, but it's definitely him, and it sends little chills down my shoulders. I carefully position Urs in my hands and move back around to see if Russia's still looking for me. He has one hand on a branch and is trying to find a place to put his other one.

Not trying to keep my breathing silent anymore as it speeds up, I shuffle my legs to get in a stable position and then take aim. I can't really target his midsection from this angle, but his head should do just fine.

I'm actually going to fire this thing... Oh, this seems so wrong. But my brother isn't here to shoot for me, and I know Russia's out to kill me. This is my only real option.

I close my eyes and pull the trigger. The shots start to fire off deafeningly, and the recoil jerks my hands back so much the gun smacks my chin. With a cry, I let off the trigger, but my hands are shaking and my wrists are throbbing with pain, and I lose my grip altogether. By the time I'm aware it's no longer in my hands, it's fallen too far for me to reach out and grab.

Russia catches it. He's not dead. Why isn't he dead?

I pull back and am just able to see on little stream of blood on his neck. Did I just graze the side? But horizontally? Did I just miss altogether? What... What...

Managing to forget the pain in my wrists enough to put some weight on my hands, I scramble back to where he can't hit me. The other gun. Where's the other gun? I feel around the nest for a second before realizing it should still be in my pocket. As the branches on the other side of the tree creak, I pull out the rifle and try to remember how I'm supposed to fire it. Getting one sweaty hand by the trigger and another further up, I rest the end on my shoulder and prepare for Russia to get in range.

But he doesn't come up after a minute. Is—is he gone? Did he die? Did he just make off with the gun?

Not lowering the rifle, I stand up to get a better look. He's not on the ground that I can see. I lean forward a little to look past one leafy branch, and then I'm hit.

Something seems a little wrong, but I just watch Russia start to rise from beneath me until I fall back on my haunches. My head touches the nest, and then I register that I dropped the rifle. And then I feel the bullet holes through my torso. First it's just little burning spots and dampness where my dress is being soaked. But before I know it I'm screaming, shrieking, crying, and make it stop, it hurts so much, it hurts so much. I'm never shooting anyone, I'll never shoot anybody, I can't do this to anyone. How can it hurt this much, how can anything hurt this much? I can't... I can't...

After too long, after forever, the blazing pain starts to die down, but everything else is fading, too. No, don't let me die yet. Just stay like this a while, until Switzerland comes and saves me and patches me up. Don't die just yet, please. Even if it still hurts, hang on, you can't let him find you dead.

But I just can't breathe, and that terrible, terrible blackness floods over me.


	37. Survive Somehow

Author's Note: Weeell, so much for not finishing this before I leave next week. I guess I just can't help it when a muse comes and sits on my stomach, whining until I write what it says.

So, anyway, enjoy. And review. If your attention span has lasted through this long stretch of long chapters, I think you can handle the multitasking.

And of course, thank you for previous reviews. :D

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><p><em>Canada<em>

I've been on this island for two weeks now. Fourteen days. Fourteen days ago, I was waking up in a hotel. Preparing myself for the meeting. Hoping my presentation's going to go well and impress the others. Trying not to spill syrup or pancake on my business suit. Wondering if Newfie's feeding Kumajiro enough for breakfast. And now I'm starving, on the run because I bludgeoned England to death.

But I shouldn't be dwelling on that every second out here, so I won't. Because I'm trying to get out of here alive, and I can't let my guard down, and I still haven't found any decent food, and I just can't let myself worry about that right now, so I won't. I won't.

Still rubbing some sleep out of my eyes, I continue to trudge through the trees, trying hard to find food. At least that gets to be my priority instead of water. I had plenty during the rainstorm, and I actually managed to save up a decent pipeful in this thing. It leaks a little bit where America bent it up, but it holds a lot of water, and it's about empty now, anyway. There are puddles everywhere now, but it doesn't hurt to keep a little extra in here. It's a little more like drinking from a cup, too. And there's not any blood or mold or anything on the inside, so it shouldn't hurt me. It's a lot more likely to hurt others...

I'm pretty sure it's going to do that, though. I'm all alone now, so I can't rely on America to do the heavy hitting for me. On that note, I haven't been able to honestly sleep because if someone finds me, I'm dead. And people will find me because I'm just visible now. That fact alone is enough to terrify me more, because who knows if I'm mortal already now? So, everyone's out to kill me, they will be able to find me and kill me, if they kill me I'll stay dead, if I don't kill the right one of them I'll probably die of starvation anyway, and I... I'm just worried sick. My hands won't even stop shaking. Nor will they loosen their grip on the pipe. I can let go if I need to, but if I'm not paying attention, soon enough I'll be clenching it hard enough my fingers bleed.

...As I am now. I try to loosen up a little, and I wince as the sides of my nail tips stop digging into the skin. I'm in pretty pitiful shape. My nails are caked with blood and dirt, my collar's soaked in blood, and a few extra splashes of red are across the front of my dress shirt courtesy of England. I have rips and scratches all over, my glasses are bent crooked courtesy of Russia, my hair's in total disorder, and I need a shave. I've lost weight, I've lost sleep, and I'm roaming and shaking like a confused old man. I must look like a raving lunatic right about now.

The sad part is, I'm getting there. I've already broken down screaming at England from hunger, I've had a few scattered breakdowns about my immortality fleeing, and of course I broke up England's skull with a pipe. And he's not going to be the last one, either. Because I'm not home. And if I don't go home, I killed England for no reason. And I can't live with that, so I have to go home, which according to The Rules means I have to kill my nation. So I have to kill my nation. And there's no way to tell which one it is, so I just have to kill everyone I come across until I find him. And it's horrible, but it's the only way this can be somewhat right, and I don't want to die here, either. So I have to do this. It's my only choice.

Trying to quit shaking so hard, I continue stalking through the trees. Hopefully my stomach's not growling as loudly as it seems to me. I don't want anybody to find me, and I doubt I'll find food soon, anyway. I haven't had any luck since I left the alliance. And that was... four days ago? My gosh... I really am going to starve if I don't make it home soon...

I give up on being less jittery and keep going. I still have to stop and rest, taking what sips I can from the inverted pipe, especially when the temperature starts to climb. By noon, I can't stand my shirt on me anymore and take it off after a frantic sweep of the surroundings. I can't have someone sneaking up on me while the pipe's not in both hands...

I tie the sleeves around my waist and get back to walking. It's only a few more minutes before I hear something. A rattling of bullets. Paranoid, I look around for the culprit and feel myself over to make sure I wasn't hit. But I find nothing. They didn't sound all that close, anyway. I-I just wanted to be safe...

I look around again, feeling more blood welling up under my fingers, and then set off. Not a whole minute passes before the gun goes off again, and I end up going through the same ritual. Still no damage, still no gunman. It's fine. I'm fine...

Eventually I get back to walking, without any more gunshots sounding off. I guess whoever was firing killed the other one. Or two.

—Don't let any of them be my nations! I have to kill him first! What am I doing, walking? I have to hurry, before everyone dies and I'm left here to starve because I couldn't find my nation in time, and I murdered England...

Suddenly feeling like crying, I pick up the pace. It's okay. It's going to be fine. Three dead at most, and one of them isn't my nation, anyway. Surely I can find the right nation in time. I just have to keep up the pace and kill everyone, and I'll be fine. Everything'll be fine.

I've rested twice more before I finally see a figure through the trees. Clinging to the pipe with colorless knuckles, I carefully draw forward until I can make out who it is. Romano. He's slumped up against a tree. No gun, nothing else. Just a sleeping nation perfectly ready for me to kill.

I step out to where he could see me, if his eyes were open. I'm unable to take very quick steps toward him, but I advance, trembling arms holding the pipe up above my head. Am I really doing this? Am I really going to kill him? D-Do I really have to...

_Kill him or you're dead!_

Gasping, I close in, raising my weapon a little further.

Then Romano wakes up. Eyelids shooting open, he sees me standing over him immediately. I frantically bring the pipe down, but he rolls out of the way swearing and shoots to his feet. He takes off, and I pivot and come after him. I can't let him get away. I have to kill him now.

Struggling to keep the pipe ready to swing, I keep after Romano, but the distance between us is increasing.

_Don't you dare let him get away!_

I try to clip him with a swing, but I can't reach far enough. He pivots and sprints off in another direction, and I turn after him, but the mud gives way under my feet. With a shout, I come crashing to the ground, the back of my head hitting hard on a root. Biting my cheek in pain, I struggle to figure out how to get back up. Hurry up! Hurry up—he's getting away! You have to kill him, or you murdered England! Or you're dead!

I finally push myself to my feet and, gasping from exertion and fear, take off after where I think he went. But I can't see him ahead, and he's not in the trees, either. No, no, no. He can't have gotten away. No. No, no, no...

I-I can still get him. I just... Where is he going next? He's running away right now, and then... If he's stayed back there for a while, he'd probably go back, right? After all, I should be running blindly in the last direction I saw him, so there wouldn't be any reason to suspect I could end up back there. So, where have I been running...?

I go in the opposite direction of my skid marks and follow the footprints, trying to figure out which tree he had been sleeping against. He probably sank into the mud a little, so it should be easy to find...

After a minute, I find a promising indent. After standing around it for a minute, I suddenly realize he'll see me if I do that. I have to hide. So it would probably be best to get up in the tree here and pounce when he comes back, right? Okay. Let's do that.

I'm looking for a branch to start when I first see a figure collapsed on the ground. After immediately taking shelter from it behind the tree for a minute, I dare to peek back. It's certainly not Romano back yet. I'm not sure who it is from here, but he's... purple. Green and purple. And a little pink around the ragged hole in his back. And a little white—no... That's just... m-maggots...

I try as hard as I can not to throw up. What the... What is that? It's not a nation. It couldn't possibly be a nation. I-it's just some human that somehow ended up here. The Rules never said there weren't any humans. Maybe it's the guy who wrote The Rules. S-so, if he's dead, that's a good thing, right? And maybe they're not working anymore?

After making sure no one else is in sight, I dare to draw a little closer, just to figure out what in the world a man's rotting corpse is doing here. There aren't many clues—he's face-down, not wearing a shirt or even shoes. But I can see, where his slacks have slid back a bit, a little bit of his underwear. They have a tomato pattern.

Haha, well, that's unusual, eh...? I would probably expect something like that from... Spain. But... Well, I guess the hair looks about right for Spain, too, but... Haha...

I slowly stand back up, glance over to see if Romano's shown up, and take off running in no particular direction but away from the nation's corpse.

Spain is dead. Spain has been dead for days. Spain's been rotting for days. Spain's not coming back. Nobody's coming back, England's not coming back, I wouldn't come back, we're all mortals, we're all as good as dead, I'm as good as dead, I'm going to die here and I murdered my big brother.

_There's still a chance. You're not dead yet._

I-I guess... B-But I'm lost now. I just missed my chance to kill Romano.

_He probably wasn't your nation, anyway._

Yeah, that's right. I should be targeting nations closer to me, right? Like... France. Somehow he's still here, having run like a coward after chopping my head off. ...And it's not as if I've done anything like that. But, you know, I've already murdered one big brother—who's to say I can't get the other? We're all going to die, anyway! Why not, huh?

Of course, I don't know where he is. But I can track him down. Just sweep the island, see if any vineyards are hiding somewhere. Ha!

I keep wandering off to wherever I'm going, taking a second to scoop up water in the pipe and swig it. So, I'll hunt down France, and if it's not him, I guess I'll have to go for America. But if we're human, what do I have to fear from him? We'd be about the same strength, and I have the weapon. So I'll just kill them and everybody, and, if I don't go home after that, what's it matter—I knew I was going to die, anyway. It all works out perfectly!

Wishing it wasn't so insanely hot, I sit down by a decent-sized puddle and drink. Not from my hands—they're not clean, and they're actually giving off more heat than the pipe at the moment. And I need to cool down.

I drain most of the puddle through ingestion and then sprinkle the less clear dregs over me. Ready to move on, I push myself to my feet and look for enemies.

America is standing right next to me.

I jump, scrambling to get the pipe back in a ready-to-use position.

America just stands there smiling, casually resting a baseball bat over his shoulder. "I think we need to talk." He only moves the bat a fraction closer to a swinging position before I turn and bolt.

"_Canada!_"

Wondering where that "I'm just as strong as him" attitude went, I gasp for breath and keep running. It doesn't matter how strong he is, he's still going to kill me for killing England, and I'll stay dead. And I can't beg him not to hurt me because I'll die, because England died, too, and that would be justice, and America's going to kill me after all, and I'm never, ever coming back...

The forest gets a little less blurry as tears spill over my cheeks. Why do I have to die? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to, I don't know what I was doing, and... a-and... Please don't hurt me... I'm sorry...

Feeling cold, I look over my shoulder to see how soon my demise is going to be. But I don't see America. My gaze snaps forward to see if he's come around in front of me, but he's not there, either. Daring—and needing—to slow down, I look everywhere, but I can't see any sign of my brother. I come to a stop, checking bushes, tree branches, anything. But he's not here.

Did... Did he just run off somewhere else? Did he forget me? Please tell me he forgot me! If I'm still forgettable, then maybe...

...Where did he get the baseball bat...? He didn't have one before... There wouldn't be one out here... He couldn't just make one out here, not out of aluminium... And why was he yelling my name, when he never said anything chasing me the first time...?

He... was never really there, was he...?

I stand here panting, alone. After running after someone who never tried to harm me, running from a dead body, and running from nothing. Because I'm scared and mortal, and I've completely lost my mind.

I make sure no one's coming for me, silently sit down, wrap my arms around my knees, and cry.


	38. I'm Back

Author's Note: This time, I'm pretty sure it's the last update before next week. But you still get plenty of time to review before then, yes? (^.-)~

I feel like posting another stretch of timeline, so here we are:

On day ten, Japan killed Russia, Canada killed England, and France killed Spain.

On day eleven, Estonia and Poland found Italy and Liechtenstein.

On day twelve, Japan killed Hungary and Austria and was killed by Austria, it began to rain, and China killed America.

On day thirteen, Italy left Romano and Spain.

On day fourteen, Russia killed Liechtenstein.

Whew, shooting through time now, eh? Let us continue.

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><p><em>England<em>

No sooner have I woken up than pain starts flashing through me. Everything significant is from my head, about the crown but mostly at my forehead. What happened...?

I try to look around a bit, but I can't make out anything save for a blurry swath of moonlight on water. Right now, my vision isn't quite as sharp as my sense of smell. And what I'm perceiving there makes me glad I have a strong stomach. Something is rotting, badly. The stench is unbearably foetid, but I'm too tired to move away right now. What _is_ that, anyway?

Augh, my head hurts. I can't remember at present what happened, but... I certainly feel like I've been dead, so I'll assume I had a fatal head wound. I'm unable to recall what it was after a minute, so I carefully reach up and feel at my forehead, just to get an outline. It's tiring just to raise my arm. Of course, I'm a bit on the starving side at the moment...

Aside from triggering a bit more pain, feeling at my wound is unnaturally... squishy. I can't tell if it's my forehead or my fingers, so I lower my hand and look at it. It's difficult to make out at first in the dim light, but I begin to make it out. Aside from the fingernails looking off and some sort of blotchiness, it's not bad... Except... it's a bit... green. With purple blotches. Rotting. My hand, myself, is what's rotting.

Supposing I don't have such a strong stomach after all.

Thankfully I at least have enough energy to keep from regurgitating bile on myself, but I don't exactly get to the water first. I'll... take care of that later. As if it doesn't smell disgusting enough already. Although that's not really the greatest of my worries at the moment.

So I'm rotting. Isn't that... just lovely. Certainly a new experience, as I'm usually revived well before my corpse starts to fall apart. This can't be a good sign as far as the immortality goes.

Oh, my head hurts. What was I just doing? Er... Checking my wound. That's it, right?

I gingerly put my fingers back to my forehead and feel at the gash and accompanying indent. It's fairly straight and then crooks off at the end. So... Ah! It was the pipe, wasn't it? Yes, that's it! Um... Who hit me with it? Russia?

Wow, I'm ridiculously hungry for someone who just threw up. Thirsty, too. I should go out and get something. Oh, wait, I can't really move much. Maybe I won't go. Should I just sleep? I am rather sleepy, and it's night.

Night. When was I killed? Head trauma takes a while to patch up, though it's not quite healed. I think it's still bleeding, and it certainly still hurts.

Oh, wasn't I trying to go to sleep? I should probably at least get away from the puddle of bile, if I can move enough. It takes a bit of effort, but I manage to get away from the tree on which I was leaning. I won't be making it to one of the shelters, but the sand's good enough for me.

I settle down, lying face-up. My head's going to be pounding no matter which way I lie. Bashed in with the pipe, huh? Hope I didn't get lead poisoning like the last time that drew blood from me. I'll keep an eye out for hallucinations of my big brother chasing me with a bloody axe. Until then...

* * *

><p>By the time I wake, the sun is baking me adequately. What time is it? What <em>day<em> is it? How long have I been here? I'm still on the island, yes? I'm definitely lying on sand. Everywhere outside my immediate vicinity is too hot to touch, so I have to place my hands carefully when I start to sit up.

My hands look much better. Still blotchy, but the marbling is flesh-coloured rather than purple. I'm still mostly green, though.

I think the heat's making my head pound worse. Or thirst. In whatever case, it shouldn't hurt to get out of the sun.

I start scooting back towards one of the shelters. Only then do I catch a glimpse of America. He's a few trees way, lying on his back with limbs in disarray, his skin in a similar condition to mine last night. Were we killed at the same time, then? But he doesn't appear to be breathing yet... And now that I think about it, I don't believe we were showing any signs of rot while alive the first few days we were here, though in this weather, we'd have to. I must have been in worse condition than that before I started to heal up. But what kind of condition would that be...?

I really think I should get something to drink. I don't feel like I'm sweating appropriately for this temperature. Although that may be because my skin isn't entirely back from the dead. In either case, I'm still desperately thirsty. There are a few puddles in the sand, so I'll check those out first.

Getting to my feet, I linger in the shade for a while before walking out towards the shore. The thin waves are lapping at the toes of my shoes before I really get confused. What was I doing out here again? Just... cooling down, or...?

It takes a moment of looking round before it comes back to me. I'm going for the puddles of rainwater over there. Gah! What has happened to my memory? I swear my attention span is about the size of America's right now...

Although my forehead's still grieving me substantially. Perhaps I have brain damage about that area? Er... That's the frontal lobe. Not that naming it in any way helps me to recall what it does...

Ha. Oh, yes, do I have brain damage? I can't tell, as I appear to have brain damage.

Let's just worry about... what was I—water. Let's just worry about getting water for now.

I pad over to the nearest puddle and, after briefly examining it, take in handfuls. The water is unfortunately rather warm, and I have to ignore the condition of my hands while I'm using them, but a drink is a drink. It's not like the boiled water I had been drinking was any cooler. Well—should I be boiling this? I can't imagine it's anything but rainwater, but I don't know how long it's been sitting here. Hm.

I look back towards camp before I realise I haven't yet seen China out here. Was he killed, too? Or did he run? If he ran, he surely would have been back by now, for I've had a long while to sit here rotting. Except America has possibly been down for a bit less time than me, so if China was still...

...And I've completely lost track of what I was getting at. Wonderful. I guess I'll have to limit myself to tasks requiring lower intelligence until I'm starting to feel better.

Lowering my gaze back to the puddle in front of me, I decide to go ahead and rinse off my face. I'd really rather not look, but it feels like some sticky blood made it down to the bridge of my nose before the cut stopped bleeding. And there's certainly a mess of the stuff in my hair, but I'd rather leave that alone until I'm sure my locks aren't going to up and fall off.

Though I'm careful not to scrub too hard in case I lose skin, I rub below the wound hard enough for some eyebrow hairs to come off in my hands. It hardly matters; they tend to grow back within the minute, anyway.

After cleaning up enough, I feel as fresh as is likely possible given the mottles of dead green still on my person. After a bit of disorientation, I proceed to drink out of the next puddle in plain sight and then return to my piece of shelter. I can only rest for a moment before I start to become fidgety.

Over there, America hasn't budged. He certainly hasn't improved much, though. The smell is less overwhelming now that I'm no longer contributing myself, but I'm sure it's coming off him even more. It could be my imagination or lack of working memory, but I think he looks worse than he did just an hour or so ago. In particular, the blood spilt over his face seems more noxious.

Hn. But if that came from a forehead wound, it seems rather likely we were taken down by the same nation. Same technique and type of weapon, at least.

After deciding I don't have much better to do, I dare to venture over, keeping a hand over my nose and mouth. It wouldn't do to throw up on him, after all. Even if he has done it to me before. Of course, he was just a little kid back then. An adorable, somewhat manageable, loving little kid...

Shaking my head, I examine him as he is now. It's not surprising he doesn't look any better up close. Taking note of the hint of bloating, I don't think it would be a good idea to touch him at all, even just to wash off the wound. I can sort of make out the shape of it, anyway—a curve. Not the ninety-degree bend of the pipe that hit me, but a larger curve.

The wok. It must have been the wok. For whatever reason—The Rules stand out—China waited for his chance, took down America before he had a chance to punch him to the sky, and fled or disappeared. Not sure how long ago, but...

I can't keep looking at this. This thing that's become of America. Death doesn't suit him at all. I can't... I just can't.

Somehow managing to feel more distraught than ill, I go back to my part of camp and settle back down. He... He'll be all right, though, won't he? O-Of course. I probably came back with worse damage, after all. And even if he was killed a bit after me, he certainly has a chance. A-a good chance. Yes. He'll be back to annoy me some other day. He wouldn't dare do anything else.

Say, wasn't I working on arrows a while ago? I don't think I ever finished any. Was that what I was doing when I was attacked? I'm not sure. It makes sense.

The bow, finished and bloodstained, is still right here, next to some decent-looking finger-sized twigs. I don't think I ever started on the arrows, really. They'll be rather difficult to make without a knife, and I still need to find something suitable for heads. And I'l have to find some feathers, preferably still on a bird so I don't have to hunt as much.

Augh, it still reeks out here. Well—I never took care of last night's incident, did I? Let's just get that out of the way now...

I get that mess taken care of and settle back to my spot of shade, examining the shafts-to-be and rubbing any bumps off against the tree behind me. It's really still too hot to bother with the other components of an arrow, but I don't feel much like continuing to sit within eyeshot of America's dead body. And if I can stand to eat after everything, I should do that, too, or I won't even be strong enough to search out arrow ingredients.

Putting the bow and shafts under some leaves, I haul myself to my feet. That alone is surprisingly difficult. Is my body resorting to eating away my muscles already? How long has it been since I've eaten? Not counting being dead—or maybe I should. Did my muscles rot, too?

I'm just not doing well... Halfway to starvation, long periods of death... I wouldn't be surprised if the next time I die, I don't come back. Of course, that idea terrifies me, but what am I going to do? I'm starting to believe my venenireception is never coming back, at least not while I'll still be able to act on what I sense. The others haven't tracked us down yet—probably because they don't believe they need to use magic—and I don't know what else I'm supposed to do. Go killing, of course, but... I don't have any way to know whom I have to kill, and it's only a matter of time before I wouldn't be able to, anyway. It would be difficult to track nations down, so if my nation is someone other than America, I probably wouldn't find him.

And if it is America... Well, first off, I can't kill the dead. B-but of course he's coming back, so... After that...

My head hurts too much to think about this. Let's just go find food. That's more important right now.

I set off, feeling a little better once I get used to the movement. Maybe I've just been tired. Stronger nations can go a long while without starving to death, so I shouldn't worry myself so much. It's fine. I'll just find something to settle my stomach, go wait for America to come back complaining of hunger, and look more. Hopefully my head will heal up a bit faster—though I think I've been doing better in the last couple of minutes, anyway—and I can think things over a bit better.

Until then, food scavenging it is.


	39. Find Your Way Back

Author's Note: I'm back at last! Here's the reward for your patience.

I haven't said it in a while, but I do apologize for putting in swearing and such. I haven't been giving warnings per chapter, since that would have been spoilers, but I hope that's still okay.

In whatever case, you're not too offended to review, yes? Yes? I'll answer for you. Yes. Yes, you aren't.

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><p><em>Poland<em>

"Is this, like, seriously it?" I look at the five pistachios in my hand.

Estonia rests his arms on his briefcase. "Yep. I saw a few others, but they're not quite edible yet." He sighs. "I guess it's kind of my fault. I probably shouldn't have let us eat that much when we were celebrating yesterday."

"No big," I reply with a shrug. "It's not like we, like, weren't hungry enough to eat it. And it was about time we, like, had a party, anyway."

Estonia exhales a laugh. "I'm not sure you could really call that a party, but sure. Had to do something to burn off the excitement of seeing Russia's name faded." He leans back, closing his eyes and smiling. "No more dreams haunted with torture and death by lead pipe and pickaxe and whatever else he'd try to use..."

"Yeah... So, I'm, like, going to eat these for breakfast." I peel away one of the shells before Estonia grabs my wrist.

"Uh, no, you're not. Let's look for other food and save those for if we run out of energy."

Since I'm still staring at the pistachios with a frown, he doesn't let go, and I can't get to the one I've already opened up.

"Please?" I pout.

"Not until we find something else." He starts to get up, pulling my wrist with him so I can follow suit. I don't get to my feet, so all he ends up doing is dragging me across the mud.

"But I'm, like, out of energy now."

"No, you're not. Come on—looking now will be better for both of us. Especially if we get going before the sun's up too high."

I finally let him pull me up. "Like, fine." I pause, looking at the food in my hand. "No, wait! We could totally just plant these and get, like, five more trees, and we won't even have to, like, go anywhere."

Estonia doesn't stop trying to lead me away. "How fast do you think those trees grow?"

I try to think for a minute. "Oh..."

"Exactly. Let's just go out looking." He manages to take the pistachios from me and puts them in his briefcase. "Maybe we'll even find you another playmate while we're exploring."

"Mmm-kay." I start walking after him. "Is there, like, anyone fun left, though? Like, I know Italy's still here, but he's kinda... And then Lithy's gone, and Liechtenstein doesn't want to do anything fun, and, like..." I sigh loudly. "Are we home yet? This place is, like, seriously boring me."

Estonia checks out a bush and then goes back to walking. "No, we're not home yet. And I'd rather play it cool and stay somewhat healthy until we end up the last two. That's our best chance of getting out, or at least our best chance without spending all our energy."

"Kay." I follow him for a while, swinging my arms. Wonder what kind of food we're going to find today. I hope he's okay with me eating most of it, because I'm pretty hungry. But he's not as cool as Lithuania, so he might not. What would I do then? Hum...

I look around the trees, but all I really see is leaves. We could probably eat those, though, right? Except they might taste nasty and stuff. Ugh. There'd better be some fruit here. Or more nuts. What else grows on trees?

I wander into Estonia's arm before I realize he's holding it out in front of me.

"Why are we, like, stopped?"

Estonia lowers his arm and nods to his right and a little bit forward. "Someone's here," he whispers, starting to back up.

"Oh, cool!" I walk past him and try to pick out who it is. It's just a shadowy figure from here, but I think it's moving closer. I start to make out the brown of his hair before I try to look at his face. But I can't identify him too easily that way because his face is so blotchy and ick I can't look at it long enough.

"Hey!" he calls, waving an equally grody arm at us as he comes forward. It sounds like Spain. Uh—I don't know Spain very well...

I continue to watch him, but now from behind Estonia, who looks over his shoulder at me.

"Really?" he whispers. "He's not getting ready to kill us, and I thought you wanted to find some nations..."

"But I, like, don't know him!" I whimper.

Estonia shakes his head. "How were you even able to speak at the meeting?"

"I just, like, pretended Lithy was the only one there... It's, like, what I always do..."

Estonia sighs and turns back toward Spain. "Hey," he finally responds to the other's greeting. Estonia's able to be okay with all of the grodiness until the stench hits us. While I'm back here gagging—no spoon necessary—he swallows loudly and starts, "So, what happened to you?"

Spain, panting for breath, steps a little closer and leans against a tree or something. It's hard to tell when I can't actually see him.

"Well, I just came back from the dead a while ago," he says after catching his breath a little. "It took until dawn for me to feel well enough to get up and look around and such. And then I realized everybody—France, Romano, Italy—was gone. So I figured I should look for th—" He breaks off coughing. "...L-look—" another few coughs before he recovers—"for them." He clears his throat. "Whew."

"Need some water there?" Estonia says with a strained smile.

"Probably, yeah, but that's more from taking a shot to the lung that killed me. Hasn't been healing up as much as it should have been." He starts to cough again but clears his throat to stop it. "So, you haven't seen any of them, have you, Estonia? Or..." I get the feeling he's trying to see who I am, and I start to panic. "...Poland? What are you hiding for? Got a zit or something?"

Thankfully, Estonia responds before I feel pressured into saying something. "Have we seen any of them? Not recently. But—when was that?—a few days ago, we found Italy up a tree screaming and unresponsive—wait." He pauses, tensing up a bit. "You were by that tree, blood on your back, from that stab wound, I guess... You've been dead this whole time?"

Spain shifts position a little. "I guess so. How long has it been?"

"Days." Estonia frowns. "Three, four, five? I'm not sure."

"Whoo! That's a while. Probably explains why I look so bad." And smell. Don't forget the ridiculously grody smell.

"Yeah..." Estonia seems a little shaken. And also shaking. "You certainly don't look healthy..."

Spain laughs. "Yup. Well, I guess I'll go ahead and quit stinking up the place, if that's all you know."

"Okay." Estonia stops. "A-actually, France is off the island. I haven't seen him, but his name's faded on the meeting agenda, along with some I know are off the island."

"Whoa, really?" Spain pauses for a coughing fit. "I dropped my meeting stuff pretty early on. Can I see yours?"

Estonia starts to move his hands to open his briefcase. "Sure. Uh, please don't touch it, though. If you don't mind."

Spain laughs. "That's fine."

I scuttle over to the nearest tree and cower behind it as Estonia shifts and presents some of the papers to Spain. Oh, are they done yet? Send him away already, Estonia... You know I don't like being around strangers...

The two chat for a minute before Spain finally says goodbye and starts off. I dare to peek back from behind the tree, but Spain is just now turning his back to Estonia. His rotting back with a rotting wound, and _ohemgee there's a maggot crawling in it_.

I slide back behind the tree trying _way_ hard not to barf, and apparently Estonia notices the gag-worthy thing, too.

"Uh, S-Spain?" His voice is sort of weak.

Spain stops and turns around. "Yeah?"

"Uh, there's... uh, something on your, uh, back..."

"Oh?" I guess he looks over his shoulder or feels for it or something, because he's silent for a second, and then he chuckles. "Sorry, I thought I got all of these. Kinda hard to feel them sometimes." He falls silent again after that, but I can't tell if he's walking away or not. I end up peeking to check just in time to see him pop the squirming thing in his mouth.

* * *

><p>When I open my eyes, Estonia's leaning over in front of me.<p>

"What's, like, going on?" I mumble, rubbing my eyes.

"You sort of fainted a minute ago."

I start to get up but still feel a little light-headed. "What was I, like, fainting for?"

"Uh..." Estonia laughs weakly. "I don't think I'll mention it, or you might pass out again."

"Okay..." After another minute of feeling woozy, I go ahead and get back to my feet.

"Feel well enough to keep looking for food?"

I stretch. "Yeah, let's go."

Estonia leads the way, and I start looking over all the trees again. I don't feel that hungry anymore for some reason, but it's almost, like, noon, so I could use some lunch. Hummm. I don't think there are any pierogi trees here. They're rare enough in my own country—I can't even prove to Lithuania they exist. But he wasn't there when Prussia showed me the grove, and it's hard to convince him of anything anyway, so whatevs.

We've been looking long enough for me to have to take off my shirt again—I think the poor thing's too sweat-stained to save past this—when Estonia decides to chat.

"What do you think happens to the stuff that disappears from the island?"

I check out another tree, but it just has weird, non-nut seeds. "Like, I dunno. Some underground dragon-thing, like, eats them?"

"Interesting theory," Estonia responds like it was just a joke. "I was just wondering if it might end up somewhere on the outside, you know, where the ones who've left can get at it." He waves his briefcase. "I still have plenty of paper and ink in here, so we could try getting a message across."

"Oh, yeah? Like, tell Lithy to send us some decent food. Nothing but pistachios is, like, kinda boring, you know?"

"Yeah, but they'd probably have to find us first." He gets a drink of water from a puddle. "And I don't know where we are. I tried looking it up on my phone, but there's just no connection here." He steps away and looks up, and I get my own drink. "But we can see stars most every night. Isn't there a way to get our location from that? With some sort of instrument... An astrolabe? I'm not sure. You have any idea?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Hm." We keep looking for food silently for a minute before he talks again. "I bet we could ask someone else, if they're not trying to kill us. I'm sure England would know, or someone else who's sailed a lot..." He takes out the agenda again. "Aw, man! We shooed off Spain before I thought of this."

With that, I sort of start to remember why I fainted, and I feel queasy just thinking about it. "We are, like, _not_ going after him. I will barf if I see that again. I, like, promise I'll barf."

"Don't worry; it's not that urgent." He puts up the papers. "We'll just keep looking for food and see if we run into anyone promising."

Although I'm feeling a lot less enthusiastic about food now, I nod and keep after him. It's not too long before we do run into someone. Literally.

Apparently he was asleep, because he doesn't start swearing until a minute after I bump into him. Now swinging on the vine around his ankle, Romano calls me out for a few minutes before he even starts to calm down.

"Like, cool it! It was totally an accident, okay? Have a little respect." Having said that, I equal Romano's glare for another moment before retreating behind Estonia.

Estonia laughs weakly, reaching for his knife. "Do you need a little help there?"

"No, I've just been hanging from this thing for a day and ripping my leg out of its socket because I fucking felt like it!"

"Sorry I asked." Estonia carefully approaches Romano, whose face is still bright red and glaring. Romano doesn't hit him, though, and Estonia's able to start sawing at the vine without much interference.

"Poland?" he calls after a while. "You want to come help?"

Too nervous to speak, I just shake my head a few times. Estonia sighs, and Romano grumbles something under his breath. Sorry, but I can't...

Estonia severs the last piece of vine, and Romano manages to land on his rear, but he still yelps in pain. Estonia offers a hand to help him up, but Romano insists on pushing himself to his feet. After a minute, he manages it, but he still staggers as he tries to walk away.

"Uh, Romano," Estonia starts, putting his knife back in his belt, "Spain was looking for you."

"What?" Romano stops and turns to glower at us. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but Spain's... dead. So quit fucking with me and let me get on with my life."

"He's not dead," Estonia responds before Romano can turn around. "He... definitely doesn't look good, but he was walking and talking. We just ran into him a while ago." He pauses a moment and then points in a direction with his thumb. "Last saw him heading that way."

Romano stands there frowning for another minute before abruptly turning around and limp-running in the direction Estonia pointed out.

"You're welcome for everything," Estonia mumbles.


	40. Wish I Had the Strength

Author's Note: Thank you for all of the reviews! I mean, 15 and 20 per chapter? 546 total? THE NUMBER IS SO HIGH IT DOESN'T EVEN LOOK RIGHT?

But I assure you that problem can be resolved by adding more reviews. Please help me out, ne? ^.^

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><p><em>Japan<em>

I drift back to consciousness slowly. I'm not sure what's going on. I can't sense much but heat and pain right now. I consider opening my eyes, but the lids seem too dry and heavy to move. How have I made it to this point?

Firstly, I'm on that island. And then… My cheek must be broken. From… It was Hungary, wasn't it? Yes, and my ankle is throbbing from getting caught while trying to attack her. And I died… from the wound in my back. It's still difficult to breathe, but my heart must have mended itself well enough. I'm alive, after all.

Though I won't be that way for long if I don't move. Is Hungary back already? She'll surely want to fight me again, and I by no means have the strength to come out of a battle alive. I can barely manage to open my eyes.

It's a minute before the world comes into focus. I'm on my side in the grass and sand, my arms stretched out in front of me. They're both coated in blood, as is my katana. If I've been dead for days, the blade is likely rusted by now. I'll have to take care of that...

But first I have to move. I can't see where Hungary and Austria are from this angle, though, so I try to push myself up and look around. The best I can do is tilt up my chest enough to turn my face to the other side. Now I can see Hungary, still dead. She may have been killed before me, but she has more damage to heal. And Austria is a bit farther. Judging only from their states of decay, they probably died the same day. I think it's reasonable to say I killed both of them but did not go home. I'll just have to keep searching, then...

Turning my head back the other way, I start to drag myself away. I cover little distance in the first heave, but the effort still makes my pulse jump and my arms shake. The maladies I was suffering before death haven't left me. With all of that salt water and my revival, I could only be much more dehydrated.

Struggling to grip at the ground, I pull myself forward again. After a few more times, I have to pause because my sight and touch have gone fuzzy. This is all too much of a strain on these old bones. But it's out of the question to rest for long. Just long enough... Just long enough so that I don't feel I'm about to die, and I'll get going again.

After I start to feel a bit less out of breath, I reach out again and tug myself further. Even after a single effort, I find myself having to rest again. The rising speeds of my breathing and heartbeat are fearful. I feel like I could easily drop dead any moment now. All it would take is a little more stress on my frantic heart, and...

And then what? I die. Would I stay dead, after all? Or would I come back, in even worse condition, only to die again a short time afterward? If I die like this, is there any way I could make it out of here alive? Any way at all? I can't imagine it.

So I cannot let myself die. Nor can I let myself rest, or Hungary will make it to me. If I just keep pushing myself, I at least have some slim chance of surviving.

I reach out my arms with some struggle and start to pull. I don't budge. I try to push myself forward with my feet, but I can't move my injured ankle enough, and one foot isn't enough to do the job. My next try is shifting my hips and knees. I finally gain a bit of ground this way, but I still have to take a break after covering about five centimeters.

By whatever means, I can't hope to put much distance between myself and Hungary. But there's a large bush not all that far away. Making it beneath that is probably my only chance.

My pulse hasn't slowed appreciably, but I dare to push myself a bit farther, anyway. Except I don't budge. I can't tell whether I'm slipping on the soil or my movements are just too weak. Regardless, I keep at it, but the ground doesn't pass beneath me a bit. I grit my teeth and try again with renewed fervor, but once my vision starts to succumb to black flashes, I stop. Feeling completely deprived of oxygen despite the rapidity of my breathing, I just lie here a while.

Is this it? Is this the most I can muster? After everything, am I really this... pathetic? To not even make it a tiny bit farther? To just lie here, waiting for death to catch up with me? Is this the best I can do?

...Of course not. I may have no strength of body, but I have strength of will. I don't care if it's impossible to move. I will do it, anyway. If I can't, I don't deserve to call myself Japan.

Struggling to catch my breath, I shut my eyes and focus. After a trembling false start, I force myself forward at last. The bush's leaves brush my cheek before I fall back to the ground senseless.

* * *

><p>My head is pounding. I notice that before I'm aware that I'm conscious. What...<p>

It's a minute before I'm able to place where I am. After that struggle to get to the bush scarcely concealing me... Did I die? Or merely black out? I'm... not sure. I certainly don't feel any better, but... I don't think I'm quite exhausted enough to account for coming back from the dead... I'm not sure.

It hardly matters, anyway. I can forget about moving anywhere. It's difficult enough to keep my breaths from being too shallow to do any good. I won't be able to keep this up much longer.

So... I'll probably die here after all, huh. After everything... After everything I've ever done, everything I've done here... After killing my fellow nations to escape... After coming so close to finding whom I have to kill... After everything, I'm just going to fade away here... letting my people down... massacring my friends and fellows without one drop of blood being necessary... After coming so close, it's all for naught... It's so bitter I could cry, if I were the crying type.

Actually... I think I hear crying. Is it... me? No—that's impossible. I don't have enough moisture in me for that, nor has my breathing changed. Someone else is crying? It doesn't sound all that close... Or perhaps I'm just hallucinating... I wouldn't put it past me, in this state.

I lie here in a daze, listening to the crying slowly taper off. I'm not sure how long it takes, but by the time I think I hear footsteps, I can barely stay conscious.

"J-Japan?" I can't tell whose voice it is, or if the hallucination is even supposed to sound like anyone in particular. Somehow I'm able to pry my eyelids open to check for anyone. Everything is blurred, but I hear an "eek" and see something move away.

Italy…? Is it you who's been crying? Not over me—I know you hate me for killing your friends in front of you—but for… Ah. Austria and Hungary are still near, aren't they? If they're still dead, I must have just been unconscious… Though Italy must have thought I was dead, if he panicked so much at me opening my eyes. Well. He won't have to wait long before I really am dead.

My eyes closed again at some point, and I can't open them anymore. But I suppose there's no need to. Italy's already run off, and…

I lie here unthinking until I imagine I hear Italy again. Asking if I'm okay. What a silly thing to say…

"Japan?" he repeats in a strained voice.

A while after I fail to respond, he still hasn't said anything. I would assume he finally left, but then I hear him choking up. Perhaps he looked back at Austria and Hungary. He certainly wouldn't be crying over someone he hates...

A wave of nausea hits me as I'm whirled one way or another. I can't quite tell I'm face-up until I'm being dragged somewhere. My head is propped up on something, and then the hands moving me disappear. What's going on...?

"A-all I have left is a broken part of a bottle, so I'm sorry if it cuts you, okay?"

Not even beginning to figure out what's happening now, I just lie still and try to keep breathing. After vaguely hearing a light sound I can't identify, I feel my jaw being pulled down. Something bites at my lower lip, but before blood wells up, there's suddenly... _water_ running into my mouth. My throat's so unused to it that it tries to choke the liquid out, but eventually the water goes down. The piece of bottle lifts away from my lips, I hear that sound again—a splish, I think—and then the process starts all over.

I'm too stunned to think much about it, and I still doubt I'm able to speak, but the water keeps coming regardless. After a few more drinks, some gritty water is sprinkled over my face, and I don't hear another splash.

"Hang on. I have to find another puddle," Italy mumbles, putting his hands under my armpits and dragging me out again. I'm not sure which direction, since I'm currently occupied revelling in the droplets of water cooling my face. Does sweat feel this nice when it evaporates? Surely not...

Italy sets me up somewhere else and commences giving me more mouthfuls of water. I'm not sure how long it takes after that—he moves me at least once more—but soon enough I'm able to feel as thirsty as I am, and I begin to suck the water down greedily. After a few more drinks, I try opening my eyes again. This time I'm able. My vision is still unclear, but I can see Italy above me, preparing to put the least jagged edge of the bottle to my lips again.

He pauses on seeing me look at him and then smiles weakly. "Are you starting to feel a little bit better?"

It takes more effort than it should, but I manage a nod. I can't say thank you or ask him why he's doing this. It wouldn't seem like an unusual gesture for him, but to someone who completely betrayed his trust and made him suffer so much? Someone he screamed he _hated_, which isn't a word he throws around lightly? Why is he doing this?

And why is he alone? His brother and Spain had to have come back, and I can't imagine them forcing Italy out of their company. Have they been killed again? How can he have suffered so much more, and still go out of his way to help an enemy?

I stay still and wonder at Italy as he continues feeding me water. We go through another few puddles before I start pushing myself up when it's time to move. I can't quite walk yet, but my breathing and pulse are starting to get back to normal, and I'm beginning to feel stronger. It's not much longer before I actually start sweating. A few puddles later, and I'm able to move myself to the next spot of water. It hurts to touch my shredded lips, but I start drinking from my own cupped hands. I'm still exhausted and a bit light-headed, but I'll take anything over helplessly waiting for death to come.

"Are you okay now?"

After splashing the last of the puddle over my face, I turn to look at Italy. He's sitting cross-legged, watching me anxiously.

I answer yes, but it's so garbled I can't understand it myself. I clear my throat and try again. "Y-yes..."

Italy smiles at this.

"Italy..." He looks at me attentively as I try to figure out what to say next. I'm not sure how I could possibly express my gratitude, so I start by apologizing. "I'm sorry for troubling you like this. And for..." I'm not sure I should be very specific. "For hurting you so much before. I don't expect that saying that will keep you from hating me anymore, but..."

Italy, starting to look scared, shakes his head rapidly. "I-I don't hate you! How... How can I hate you when you're hurting so much?" Trembling a little, he pulls his knees to his chest. "I-I don't know why I said that. I was just hurt and scared, and I wasn't thinking straight, a-and..." A choking sob as the tears start down his cheeks again. "I don't hate y-you, I really d-don't, a-and if it's okay, c-can we be friends again?" His voice rises an octave. "P-please?"

You're... asking _me_?

I have to swallow another handful of water before I'm able to respond. "I... would be honored to be called your friend again, Italy."

Italy smiles shakily and gets out a "thank you" between sobs. Not sure what else to say, I sit here silently, rubbing some relatively cool mud on my forearms.

After slowly recovering from his bawling fit, Italy swallows and starts to speak again. "S-so, if we're friends a-again, I can't lose you, o-okay?"

I nod silently.

"And please d-don't kill anyone else... I know G-Germany's coming for us, so y-you don't have to be s-so worried about that." He shakily starts to get to his feet. "But I can't s-stay with you, okay? So promise m-me you won't let yourself g-get more hurt, and I'll g-go..."

After a bit of struggle, I haul myself to my feet. "What do you mean by 'I can't stay with you?' I'm still weak, and it's probably too much to ask, but I was starting to hope we could keep together for a while. Of course, it's perfectly acceptable if you don't..." I trail off, having to stoop and get more water.

Italy shakes his head, sniffling. "I'm sorry. I do care, I j-just... I'm not staying around anyone anymore. I-I can't."

"All right." I look down. "If you insist." Taking a breath, I meet his gaze again. "Then, I promise you that I will do everything I can not to get hurt." But I can't say I can trust Germany to do something that could very well be impossible. I still need to escape by my own power. But the only ones left to kill are China and Canada. No one Italy is very close to. He'll be disappointed if he sees me kill, but at least it won't hurt him as much as it could.

"Th-thanks." Italy hesitates, wiping some snot off his face. "So, I guess... I'll go now. S-stay safe." He turns his back to me.

"Italy," I start, making him spin back around. "You... You saved me. From more pain, from dying... From dying thinking I've made bitter enemies of almost everyone I care about... From dying unforgiven and alone... From dying a failure... So..." I take a few unsure, limping steps forward, until I'm within arm's range of my friend.

After another second of hesitation, I hug him. "...Thank you."

At this gesture, Italy breaks down sobbing again and hugs me back. I do my best not to feel too uncomfortable until he finally pulls away.

"Y-you're w-welc-co-ome," he chokes out. After gazing at me regretfully for a minute, he suddenly pivots and bolts away.

I watch him disappear among the trees and, taking a few deep breaths, make myself focus on restoring my katana.


	41. See What Tomorrow Brings

Author's Note: Weeell, I did this for the twentieth chapter, so I think I'll do it again for the fortieth. I'm *pretty* sure we're not going to get to a sixtieth, but we'll see. We can still get peeks of the real world if any other nations make it home~

And if anyone has any ideas for the poor, neglected TV Tropes page for this fic, feel free to put them on the site and/or review with them here and thereby let me do it.

More importantly, REVIEW. NOW. Or after you actually read the chapter. ...Yeah, probably not until after you read the chapter. Just don't forget to review by the time you get all the way to the end, mmm-kay? I know it's difficult, especially when you're used to a show with thirty-second story segments, but you can handle it. I BELIEVE IN YOU.

Okay, go ahead and read now.

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><p><em>Lithuania<em>

I lead France a bit further through the halls.

"And you can stay in just about whichever room you want," I continue. "There aren't many of us here yet, so there are a lot of choices. Belarus is staying in her old room, Russia will be back in his bedroom, and I'm staying in there." I nod at a door we're almost past. "But, uh, if you really want that room for some reason, I can move."

"No, I can stay in a different one." Ducking his head behind some of the luggage on his shoulder, he looks at the door. "Was that your old room?"

I laugh weakly. "No. I considered going in my old room, but..." I shake my head. "Just no. I'm staying in a room without so many bad memories. I'm not sure whose it used to be. Maybe Kazakhstan's."

"Ah." Exhaling, France walks on a bit further before figuring a certain room looks good to him. I help him set his bags on the bed—he has an awful lot of cologne and hair product cans knocking around in these—and I stand off to the side as he starts to unpack his clothes.

"And you're sure Russia's fine with all of us staying here?" he starts, opening the wardrobe.

"Mmm-hmm. He's always happy to have some company." I lean back against the door, which creaks until it bumps against the wall. "And, given the circumstances, this is the place to stay."

He nods and sighs. "Wonderful circumstances, too. I would have come over to help earlier, but I needed a little more time to recover."

"Oh, that's fine. It's only been—" I check my watch—"a week since you came back. And you were out there suffering on the island days longer than me, so you needed some more time."

"Yeah..." He puts the emptied bag at the bottom of the wardrobe and sits on the bed. "Any news from out there since I came back?"

I shrug. "I think a few more things may have shown up in the room, but... Ah." I fish my phone out of my pocket. "Actually, Germany had someone set up a webcam there, so let me see if I can pull it up here..."

It takes a minute of poking and loading, but eventually I'm able to find the live feed. I only glance at the onscreen table for a second before sitting down and moving the phone so France can see it, too.

"There it is," I say. "It doesn't look like anything else has shown up since I last checked."

France ponders the image for a moment. "Which seat is Canada's?"

"Hm?" I angle the screen towards me for a minute. "I'm not sure. His name should be on some sticky notes at his seat, but I can't really read them from this." I see if I can zoom in, but I can't find a way. "Well—your stuff is still there, right? We can go by now, pick that up, and check out the notes. Being near the building is the whole point of staying in Russia's house, anyway, right?"

"Oui." France stands and, after setting his unloaded bags on the vanity, lets me lead him out to the cars. I still remember how to get around this place too well...

Apparently my modest car is too unstylish for France to be caught riding in it, so we take his. He drives while I give directions, and in ten minutes we've made it to the building. We park in the back, duck under the yellow tape, and walk inside. There are a lot of doors and halls to pass before we're there, but I remember the way fine. Keeping an eye on the place is my job in all of this, after all.

Well, mine, Latvia's, and Ukraine's. But it's easier to get here from Russia's house than from the hotel Ukraine and a lot of the others are staying in. And much easier to get here than from Latvia's house, where he insists on staying. I can't blame either of them for not wanting to stay in Russia's house again. I'm probably crazy for doing it myself... But, someone has to be able to check this place in person. Even if the others can track exactly when something new shows up on the webcam, I still have to come by and take a closer look.

I open the door to the meeting room, and France and I step inside. The light's already on for us—or, really, for the cheap-ish camera—so we just keep walking straight for the table. Some of the places are obvious on their own—Italy's has pasta, and those who have returned have nothing but single notes at their places. For others, we have to read the notes.

It doesn't take much searching before we get to France's seat. France looks at his things for a minute. "It's okay to take them, then?"

I nod. "You can take off the notes, too. Just leave one so we know it was your seat. I don't think that'll be important now that you're back, but there's no reason not to."

He starts to peel off the papers. "FRA, 16/6," from his tie. An identical note on his jacket. "FRA, 25/6," on his shirt. "FRA, N/A," from the suitcase he must have left behind before we were all transported. That's all of the big stuff at his place.

With the articles slung over his shoulder, France starts to look around the table again, and I follow him. We pass Russia's seat—one of the two without a briefcase by now—and Belarus's, followed by Switzerland's, Liechtenstein's, and Poland's. France keeps going past that, but I find myself coming to a stop.

There's nothing new at Poland's place. A briefcase and jacket, from the first day there. Some pieces of fabric shredded by branches and thorns, from various days after. No real clues. But another shred has shown up since the day I killed him, so he should be alive. There's a difference between alive and okay, but... I mean, nothing's been blood-soaked recently, but that's no guarantee he's alive. Someone could kill him without ripping a chunk out of his clothes.

But it's not like he would go down easily, if he's taking this seriously. And he did let me kill him, so I would think he's taking it seriously. But he's still Poland, so it could have just been a whim... It was probably a whim. Oh, Poland. Why does my closest friend have to be such a headache?

"Found it," France calls.

I look up in confusion for a second before remembering we were looking for Canada's seat. "Oh, good," I respond, walking over to where France is standing. Biting his lip, he looks down at the clothes and scraps at the table.

"Was he in bad condition when you left the island?" I start, wondering but trying not to sound prying.

"Hm? Oh... I don't know." He exhales. "He was certainly in bad condition when I left him."

"Was that very long before you came back here?"

He nods. "A couple of days, at least."

"Ah." I smile at him. "He definitely came back from that, then."

France agrees, but he doesn't seem particularly reassured. I get the feeling that wasn't what he was worrying so much over.

"What else are you concerned about?"

France glances at me but doesn't reply. He thinks for a second before shaking his head. "I'd really rather not say..."

"If it could help us piece together what's been happening over there, you should probably let us know." I lean against the wall. "Or someone else, if you don't want to tell me."

"Oh, it's not you. I just..." He trails off, biting his cuff.

I pat his shoulder. "It's okay." With a hesitant grin, I add, "Just be prepared for Germany to try and drag it out of you."

He pales a bit but laughs. "He would, wouldn't he?"

"Uh-huh. We haven't been making any progress finding the island, so he figures we should get as much information as we can in the meantime."

France takes his hands away from a scrap of fabric he was looking at. "Sounds like a good plan. As long as it doesn't involve me in any more pain."

"I agree," I say as we move on to some of the other seats.

France is examining the things at Spain's place when my phone rings. Somehow despite the vibrating, I start in the wrong pocket, but I manage to find and answer the phone before the ringtone stops. "Hello?"

"Lithuania!" Between caller I.D. and the voice, Ukraine doesn't need to introduce herself. "Something else just showed up in the room! I haven't memorized whose seat is whose, but it's to your left." I start to turn left. "Uh, your other left!" I start to look the other way. "Well, now it's to your..."

"Ukraine, calm down," I start, deciding to just look seat by seat. "I'll find it."

"Sorry," comes her reply. "I got sort of overexcited. You're going the right way, though."

"All right, thanks." I keep the phone by my ear as I go through a few more seats.

"There!" Ukraine announces as I come to Japan's seat. I didn't really need her help to realize there's a new chunk of fabric at his place.

"Thanks," I say anyway, taking an as-is picture before I poke at the cloth with a frown. It's too soaked in blood for me to touch it any more than that. "Well, I'll look at it more in a minute. Let me write down exactly when it came up, and I'll let you go."

"Okay!" Ukraine waits as I grab a note from the middle of the desk. France tosses me one of the pens, and I get ready. Ukraine relays the moment she saw the cloth appear, and I write on the note, "JPN, 2/7, 13:24."

"Thanks, Ukraine," I say, putting the lid back on the pen. "I wouldn't have noticed it myself for a while."

"No problem! Keep at it." She pauses. "My brother hasn't called you today, has he?"

I roll the pen back to the table's center. "No, I haven't heard from any of them. But it'll be a while before they finish searching for the day, so don't get too worried."

"All right, thanks. So, um, bye, then?"

"Yeah. See you later." I hang up and put my phone back in its usual pocket.

France finishes his examination of Spain's things and walks over toward me. "Almost forgot we were on camera," he says before fluffing his hair and blowing a kiss at the camera lens.

I laugh. "There aren't many watching, you know."

"Oh, well." He comes to a stop next to me and looks at the cloth. "So... What is that?"

I dare to put some of it between my fingertips. "Part of a shirt, I guess." Some of the red comes off on my skin, and I pull away with a wince. "He must have gotten pretty injured for this to be so soaked in blood... I hope he's okay..." I close my eyes. "I guess it's still chaos out there, huh?"

France nods somberly. "It's just been getting worse. With the immortality going down, and not much food or water... Everyone'll lose their heads if we leave them there long enough." He bites the inside of his cheek and cringes.

"Well, Russia, Germany, and Switzerland are out looking now. I think Turkey and Korea are going to head out sometime soon, too. If the island can be found, they'll pick it up pretty soon." Though we should have found it already...

"Good." France leans his elbows on the table. "We have quite a few outside the twenty working with us now, huh?"

"Yeah, a few." I scrutinize the piece of shirt a bit. One end seems smooth-cut, probably an edge. "Took a while to convince anyone, though. Of course, the first back was someone infamous for heavy alcohol consumption, and..." I draw my eyebrows together. "I'm not sure why no one believed Belarus, but eventually we were able to convince some nations. Ukraine, Turkey, Greece—though he's not well enough to do much—Korea, Finland, and Sweden are on the team so far. We're still working on getting everyone else believing, though."

"It's been—" he looks at the note I just made—"seventeen days, hasn't it? What else do they think is going on?"

I shrug. "Prussia, for one, is convinced it's all an elaborate practical joke. Given, he probably thinks we want revenge for what he pulled in April, but still." I poke at the cloth some more to find it's tubular. Part of a sleeve. "I'm not sure what some of the others think about it. Germany's been trying to do most of the convincing." I turn the sleeve around to look at the ragged side. "Maybe you can help him with that. He'll be calling us in a couple more hours."

"I could probably do that." France sets his fuzzy chin on his hands. "You seem to have this room under control, at least."

"So far." I make the sleeve roll over a bit. "Do you think this piece of sleeve was cut off all at once?"

"Is that what it is?" France leans over to get a better look. He paws at it and then holds it closer to his eyes. "Hmm... It looks like a bunch of separate scratches to me."

"Me, too." I watch him set it back down. "So it's probably just a more extreme case of all the scraps we've been getting. His hand didn't get cut off or anything." Given the news of slower regeneration, that thought makes me wince.

"Yeah. Just another scrap."

The two of us look at it for a while before I push it back to where we found it. "Well, I'll clean this with some hydrogen peroxide and then put the note on it."

"Sounds good to me."

Hoping the next arrival to the room won't bode anything worse than this one, I grab the dark bottle in the corner and prepare to rid the area of the reek of blood yet again.


	42. Confusion and Pain

Author's Note: WE'RE TOTALLY GOING TO HIT 600 REVIEWS THIS CHAPTER. LIKE AHHH. Um, thank you. Your overwhelming support is muchly (/Shim) appreciated. (Not sure anyone's going to get that reference. Anyway.)

Got my own laptop, so maybe I'll be less distracted by other family members claiming the computer to check email and/or tickets for random events we would never go to. So, faster updates? We shall see. Anyway.

And more reviews? Surely. Because any way I want it, that's the way I need it. (Steve Perry told me so.)

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><p><em>Canada<em>

The sun's almost straight up in the sky, and I think I've found food. I have no idea what it is, but it's sort of normal-fruit-size, and it's on a tree, and it doesn't taste too bitter or strong. And it has juice and it's firm enough to not seem rotten, and I'm just glad to have some sort of food. I'm not completely sure just how long I was going without, because everything sort of melts together when you're sort of out of it, even if we're not so north there's a midnight sun.

And I'm sort of out of it. I'm okay with being sort of out of it. If I'm out of it, I'm not thinking about what's happened and what I have to do, and I don't have to think about being mortal, and I don't have to think about anything but how hot it is and how pretty that bird is and how wonderful it is to have food. And that seems like the better option to me.

The fruits safely stowed in the flipped-up bottom of my shirt, I keep walking. It's hard to keep a grip on anything, and not just because my forearms are sore from gripping the pipe so hard. The uncontrollable tremors have crept all the way to my elbows now. It's worrying, except I'm not worrying about anything because I'm out of it. And as long as I can still swing the pipe, I'm not in too much danger, anyway.

I watch my steps carefully. The mud's a little slicker since it drizzled this morning. Or, I think it was this morning. I'm not sure about these things. It's probably because of my lack of sleep. But that's okay. It's all okay...

Switching the pipe in my hands, I check for anyone around before starting to eat the next fruit. It's sort of difficult to get it all down. For some reason I just don't feel as hungry as I should after all of this. But I know I need food, and I have food, so I'll eat.

I keep wandering for a while before I start to feel that something's up. I'm not sure what. In any case, I ready the pipe and look around more carefully. Please tell me it's just another wave of senseless anxiety...

But what I see next makes me drop the fruit and seize the pipe with both hands. Approaching me with a smile is Russia, baring his own pipe. He's already too close before I decide it's probably a better idea to run. I'm going to have to fight him, aren't I? But that's okay. As long as I win. And maybe he's my nation, and I'll go home, and I won't have killed England for nothing, and why am I starting to think about this again, and shut up and fight.

I pounce to get the first hit, and I strike his head so hard I can't feel any resistance. He falls backwards, thrusting out his arms to catch himself before his shoulders hit the ground. Taken aback by the lack of blood from my attack, I swing at him again, but he scoots back to dodge. Popping back to his feet, he takes a swing of his own, and I back up in a panic.

I can't get hit. If I get hit, I can die, and I can't die. I can't, I can't, I can't.

Trying to catch my breath, I prepare to deflect his next strike. His weapon glides right across mine, and I hurry to get in a swing before he can block. My pipe crashes into his cheek, and he doesn't catch himself when he falls this time. He starts to roll out of the way, but I bring my weapon down on his head. With a strange sound, the pipe splits his skull, and a pulsing red starts to trickle out.

Is he dead? He should be dead after that. But I'm not home, and I shouldn't be killing nations—people—unless I'm going home, so if I'm not home, I didn't kill him. Right? Okay... Then, should I kill him? I don't want to kill people, but I don't want to die. And even if there's fruit, I'm going to die if I stay here because people are trying to kill me.

Yeah. People are trying to kill me. And Russia was trying to kill me, because he's Russia. So it's okay to kill him, then, right? It's just self-defense. It's all just self-defense. Killing England was self-defense because I don't want to die—

_He's moving!_

In a panic, I bring my pipe down on his head again. The split widens, but I catch his finger twitch and hit him a few more times. Except he's still not dead, because I'm not home, and... I have to go home! Why won't you die? Why won't you just _die_?

My arms are tired and shaking harder, but I keep pummeling his head in until there's nothing but a pulsing, red sheet above his scarf. He has to be dead now, right? Except I'm not home. Except... Except...

Confused, I kneel down by him and look him over. He's definitely not breathing... He's not holding on to his pipe, either. I should probably take that from him, right? It's in better condition than mine, and if he's not dead, I don't want him attacking me with it...

Still gasping for breath, I guide my shaking hand towards his pipe and try to grab it. My fingers go straight through to feel mud. Taken aback, I jerk my arm away and stare at the weapon. It's still normal. Is there something wrong with my hand? Did I get brain damage somehow? Russia never even hit me in the head—or he did, and I don't remember it? Or did someone else? America? America could give me brain damage. Or-or something's just wrong with my hand? What...

I look down to try again, and the pipe is gone. Another glance proves that Russia isn't there, either. What... What...

I stay here kneeling and panting and trembling and gaping for a few minutes before I can even try to figure out what's going on now. So Russia disappeared. And... isn't that what happens to people when they kill their person? So he... Oh! So he attacked somebody, but they just now actually died, so he got to go home.

But if he's home, I can't kill him from here. Ohh, come back! Take me with you! Something! Please... I can't stay here... I can't die here... Please...

Unable to make myself move, I just sit here dumbly, staring at the ground like it'll swallow me up and spit me out in my house if I just plead hard enough. I'm not sure how long it is before I pick myself up, gather the fruits, and set off again. Only a few minutes after that, I have to stop for a drink.

I scoop up some of a puddle in the pipe and drink. By the time I've drained the almost-clear pool, I realize I really don't want to keep moving. So I check the area and lean back against what's behind me. It feels like a bush. I'm too tired to check.

So I just sit here, trying to relax at least a little bit. I'm still ridiculously edgy, though, so I go back to gnawing at the spigot. It at least helps me feel less fidgety, though it's not that easy on teeth. Of course, it's not like I've never chipped a tooth before. Or outright lost a couple of them on the rink. I can handle it.

Wishing I were more out of it again, I continue to sit for a while longer. I feel like I almost doze off once or twice, but actual sleep isn't likely. I'm not sure that I've gotten any since I left the group. Why did I leave them again? I know I killed England... Was that all? I feel like something else happened... I'm not sure, though... I'm not too sure of all that much anymore...

I try to stay aware for a while until I finally decide I should move. I don't feel capable at first, but I eventually manage to haul myself up. Making sure the pipe and fruits are secured in my shaking arms, I start off again. I don't think I'm going back where Russia—...was it Russia?—was. But it's hard to tell. I can't get my direction from any mosses, since they don't seem to grow here. But that's fine. As long as I find the person I need to, I can go whatever direction I want.

Inhaling shakily, I walk for a minute. The fingernails on my right hand are really starting to hurt. I can't really keep them from digging into the pipe, though, so I'll have to deal with it. But that's fine. I've made it this far. A lot because I've been out of it, but...

I don't feel like going any farther right now, so I stop in the middle of the grass. There aren't any trees close enough for me to lean on, so I just drop to my knees and slump. I don't really feel like eating yet, either, so I'll just sit for a while...

It doesn't seem like long before I start to feel more nervous again. I check over my shoulder a few times, but no one surfaces. It's just an illusion. I'm just tired and paranoid and terrified, and I'm bound to be worried over nothing...

I wait until I've somewhat recovered before I try to get up again. It's difficult with both arms occupied and shaking, but I manage. At that point, another wave of anxiety hits, and I look behind me again. This time I see Japan, his weapon raised.

Making a guttural sound, I turn and bolt. The fruits jostle against each other as I hurry over the bumpy mud and grass. If I can't go fast enough, I might have to drop them. Or throw them. Could I throw them? That might be distracting enough. And maybe he'll stop to eat them, so I'll have more time?

I check over my shoulder to see if I could hit him from here. He's still after me, and not that far back—

Something crashes into my shin, and I stumble, my head scraping against jagged bark. I reflexively drop the fruit to grab something to stop myself, and a branch saves me before I go tumbling to the ground. Trying to catch my breath, I push myself back up as blood starts to creep down the side of my face. And now something's prodding my back, but I'm not sure what to make of it. Then the object pierces my skin, I remember I was running from someone with a sword, and I completely panic.

Spinning around with a howl, I wrap my other hand around the pipe and swing blindly. I hit nothing at first, but the blade tip at least leaves my back. Amidst my next flurry of attacks, I finally feel myself hit something but look to see it's just Japan's forearm. It still looks like it hurts him, but that's not enough. I have to kill him. Because he's killing me. And he won't kill me, because I won't die, because I can't die. And since I can't die, I kill him.

I'm starved for air now, but there's a little trickle of blood from the wound he got on me, and he's going to do a lot worse if I let my guard down. I start swinging again and, just in case it helps, breathlessly scream at him to die. Die, die, die. Let me kill you. Let me live. Let me go home. Die, die, die.

Ignoring my demands, he keeps dodging and parrying my hits, and in a minute it's all I can do just to stay standing. But somehow he's tired, too, and we just stare at each other, struggling for breath. I'm too tired to keep fighting. I was too tired before I even started running. And my arms are too sore, and my head is burning too much. But I have to make myself. I have to... Somehow, I have to...

Before he hits me. I have to swing again before he does. If I could just... catch my breath...

I suck in air for another moment before I try to lift the pipe back up. Why is this so heavy? Has this always weighed so much? I know my arms are tired, and I know it's a big stick of metal, but... why is it this heavy?

Before I'm able to bring the pipe back to fighting level, Japan moves. I'm sure I have a heart attack before I think to just dodge. It's hard just to drag the pipe along, but I still get out of the way in time. He pivots, bringing his blood-spotted sword around with him, and I back up again.

_What are you doing?_

T-trying to stay alive?

_Not like that! You can't just keep dodging!_

I know! But the pipe's too heavy, a-and if I just wait a little longer, maybe I can—

_No! You're not going to recover if you're still moving! Hit him now!_

I struggle to bring the pipe up again, but it's impossible.

_What are you_ doing?_ Kill him! Kill him, or you'll never get home! Kill him, or everything you've done here is in vain!_

_Kill him, or you are a murderer!_

With a gasp, I spin myself, and the pipe lifts the slightest bit along with my arms. It sort of grazes Japan's ankle. This attack doesn't compare much to the sword struggling to rip further into my side.

I gurgle in pain, twisting myself any which way so that somehow I can get it out of me. The attempt seems successful until I realize Japan is pulling it out himself. And then, for some reason, I just stare blankly at the bloodied tip as it travels away from me. It's made its way to the side of my neck before I snap back to my senses. Except now I don't really want to know what's going on. He just cut my neck open. I'm going to die. After everything, I'm going to die...

The sword slides back out, and a dizzying tide of blood starts to leave me. Ah... No...

No. No, no, no! This can't be happening! I can't die! I can't die here! I'm not ready to die! I'm not ready to die! This can't happen. This isn't happening. I'm just hallucinating. I'm just hallucinating, and I'm really fine, and I'm not going to die. I'm not going to die, I can't die, oh, gosh, I'm dying...

The blurry ground whorls and attacks me, and everything disappears.


	43. Ain't Getting Nowhere

Author's Note: It's a longer chapter this time, everyone. Be warned.

Now, let's take another look at the timeline, shall we?

On day fourteen, Russia killed Liechtenstein, Canada attacked Romano, and England came back.

On day fifteen, Poland and Estonia found Spain and later Romano.

On day sixteen, Italy found Japan.

On day seventeen, it rained, and Japan killed Canada.

Today, you reviewed.

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><p><em>Spain<em>

It's just way too hot for me to keep moving around. I still haven't found Romano, even though it's been two days since I came back. Then again, most of the first hours after coming back were taken up by rest. Particularly after I kind of threw up a little from the look and smell of my condition. But I'm good now. I almost look normal and smell... Well, I don't think I smell that pleasant still, but I've at least gotten used to it. And I even got to take a shower this morning, so I probably won't scare Romano off once he's within range.

As long as I don't have any more maggots on me. I'm starting to feel things better, though, so I'm pretty sure I've gotten all of them by now. It still wouldn't kill me to find another somewhere. I could use another bite. Haha! I always thought that was kind of funny. You try and eat me, and I'll eat you right back. Well, most of you, since I squeezed out your guts first, but still. Divine retribution.

Blowing my bangs out of my face, I lean to get a handful of puddle water. I've been crazy thirsty since I came back. Thank God for the rain. Today's, and whenever else it rained before. When I was dead, apparently.

How long was I down, anyway? It had to have been days, but there's no telling how many. How long was it last time, two? Then maybe this time was three? Or two again. I'll have to ask someone.

Then again, they might not know, either. I don't know when Italy and Romano left. I'll have to ask Romano, if I ever actually find him. It'll be a while before I get to looking again. Once the sun's not so darned hot...

I lean against the tree, alternating between watching my surroundings and dozing. It's probably dangerous to nap out in the open, but it's all right. If anyone reasonable attacks me, I can let them know France was the nation that had to kill me. If it's someone else, they'd probably find me either way. In any case, I don't think I have the energy to climb up a tree. So I'll stay on the ground like this.

The sun has made it far down enough I think it's time to get going. I still don't feel like moving, but there's no point just sitting around all by my lonesome. It takes a minute, but I manage to get to my feet and start walking.

It's almost suspicious how soon after I leave that I hear my name called. And, just in case I didn't recognize his voice, he takes a few more steps before swearing profusely. I locate him in time to see him trying to push himself back to his feet.

"Romano!" I hurry over and carefully offer him a hand. He actually lets me help him, and in a minute he's standing, though leaning heavily on his left leg.

"You okay?" I start, pretending not to notice the tears of pain at the corners of his eyes. "What happened?"

He just stands there panting and looks me over. "I... got caught in one of those vines again. Really messed up my hip." He pauses just long enough for me to start to respond, but then he cuts me off. "So, you're alive, huh?"

"Last time I checked," I respond, putting my fingers to my wrist to jokingly see if I have a pulse. Romano isn't particularly amused. He just goes back to staring at me and grimacing from his leg injury.

I laugh weakly and trail off. This isn't exactly the teary-eyed reunion I'd imagined... "Ah... Romano? I know your hip hurts, but other than that... Really, are you okay?"

He exhales slowly. "Pretty much..." He crosses his arms and scowls. "But I finally get out my momentous last words, and all us idiots have to fucking live through it after all."

Breaking into a grin, I laugh and say, "That's your biggest peeve, huh?"

"Shut up."

It takes me a minute to damp down my laughter. "Well... What? You don't hate us? Does it really make you that uncomfortable for us to know that?"

"Shut up!" He turns away from me, and I back off a little.

"Romano...?"

"Okay!" He throws his hands in the air. "I don't hate you, and I don't hate Veneziano. But that doesn't mean anything else! It doesn't mean I honestly give a damn about you, it definitely doesn't mean I depend on you, and—and... It _just_ means I don't hate you! Knowing your fucking lack of a brain, you'd probably get the wrong idea and think I'm so weak I have to rely on you or something, and I'm not, okay? So... Don't think I am." He crosses his arms again. "Now—let's go find some fucking food already. I'm literally starving." He starts stalking off without checking to see if I'm following him. I am, of course, but...

"Uh, Romano," I start, smiling but a little unnerved, "caring about people doesn't make you weak. Or wanting people to care about y—"

"I don't care, dammit!" he interrupts, and that's sort of the end of it.

Romano... I mean, if you don't want to be weak, you have problems besides being worried about other nations, but... Who really cares how tough or not you are? Not me... But apparently he doesn't care what I think, anyway.

With a sigh, I walk next to him, keeping an eye out for food. If I were less of an optimist, I would think there's just no food left anymore, with the rate I've been finding it. But I'm sure there's still something out here. We just have to keep looking!

We're not having much luck, though. I get a good drink from a couple of puddles, but I haven't found anything edible. And considering Romano's not eating, he hasn't, either.

How long has he been without food? As long as me, but suffering more because he's been alive longer? And Italy's been alive even more than us... And who knows what he's going through right now. And who knows what Romano's been through when I wasn't around?

"Hey," I start after a minute, "besides you getting caught up, what else happened while I was gone?"

Romano is silent, and I start to think he's just not going to answer me. Although I guess he could just be thinking.

"Veneziano left us," he says after a while. "Decided he was cursed or something and ran off before I could convince him out of it."

I stop moving for a second. "He just ran off all alone?"

"You do know he's a dumbass, right?"

"Ahaha..." Not sure how to respond to that, I just go back to walking and looking.

"_Stop!_"

Romano and I both freeze in our steps before realizing neither of us said that. I don't see anyone coming towards us, but there are a few figures off to my left. I tell Romano this and carefully lead the way over.

A quieter voice says something I can't make out before the first, cracking voice starts again. "You can't do this! Y-you can't do this to each other! Nobody else has to d-die! J-just stay calm—w-we're going to be rescued. Everybody that's home isn't going to give up on us!"

...Italy?

I carefully draw closer and start to make out more through the leaves and branches. Someone—Italy—is standing up, arms stretched out wide. He's between two other nations. I have to get a little closer before I can tell they're Austria and Hungary, both holding shining—I draw closer—knives in their hands. Their badly-mottled hands. They must have just come back today, because they look about as bad as I did coming back.

"I know they're trying to get us back," Hungary starts, barely restraining a cough. "But it's been so long I'm not sure they're able to. The rest of The Rules have been working, so they're out best shot at getting out of here alive." She puts on a smile. "Austria and I aren't going to kill each other without thinking it out first, you know."

"But they're going to find us," Italy says hoarsely. "And you might not come back, a-and—"

"The faster you let us do this, the better chance we have of coming back," Austria replies. He glances at his watch. "It's already a quarter to six on the seventeenth day here. How much longer to you want us to wait?"

Italy doesn't budge, although he's shaking. "I want you to not kill each other ever. N-nobody else needs to die. Please..."

Austria and Hungary exchange a look and stay silent for a moment. As some surviving bird in the distance chirps loudly, Austria looks back up at the standing nation.

"Italy," he starts, grip tightening on his knife's handle, "you had been listening to our conversation before you jumped in, correct?"

Italy, not quite understanding, stands still a second before nodding.

"And one of the main reasons Hungary and I were going to kill each other is that we're not in good enough shape to look for other nations at the moment." Austria blinks slowly, giving Italy a moment to process this. "But, if another nation we hadn't killed were to step right in front of us..."

Italy looks down as Austria blankly as he tries to put the pieces together. And then the sudden wave of fear coming off Italy is so strong I swear I can smell it.

I'm just about to charge into the area when Romano seizes my upper arm.

"Don't give us away," he mutters in my ear. "Veneziano's probably in better shape than any of us—he'll get way out of the way if Austria makes a swipe at him."

I frown, wondering if staying hidden is really the best course of action right now. But then Romano's scenario plays out just about the way he described it. Austria swings his arm up towards Italy's chest, and Italy springs out of the way. He stands there quivering, staring at Austria stunned and panicked until the latter starts to turn toward him again. With a garbled cry, Italy finally flees.

Romano shoves me a little in the direction Italy ran off. "Go, before you lose track of him!"

I glance back at Romano, thinking of his injured leg. "What about you?"

"I'll catch up!" he hisses, shoving me again. I hesitate another second, adrenaline levels starting to rise, before I finally take off.

So... Romano doesn't care about his brother at all, huh? Eh—I'm too tired; I should focus on what I'm doing. Italy's a sort of blur ahead, but I can see him. Thankfully he didn't take off in a direction farther from where I started. In my condition, there's no way I'm going to catch up with him while he's running, still, but at least I can keep track of him.

But it's not nearly long enough before I'm pushing myself so hard I don't even notice a jutting root in my path. I go tumbling to the ground, and I just lie there for a minute before I can even try to get back up. The way I'm panting and aching, attempting to run again is out of the picture.

I'm not even sure which way Italy went. He's out of sight, and there are so many broken branches and footprints around by now I can't get his path by that. But... I don't know. Maybe I could figure out which ones are freshest. I mean, they'd be over the other ones, right? I don't think anyone else has been across here since him.

It takes a minute of looking back and forth, but I eventually find a print that overlaps an earlier one. Just from the angle, I can pair it with other impressions, and I slowly start going after that trail. With the light dimming, it's hard to tell, but eventually the imprints start getting a little less heavy on the toes until it looks like Italy was just walking. It's not much further from there that I hear crying.

Holding my breath, I tiptoe closer until I finally see Italy. He's sitting against a tree, his arms around his shins and his face buried behind his knees. I creep a little bit closer and squat down before quietly calling his name. "Italy?"

He jumps, limbs splaying out, and looks around in a panic.

I hurry and put my hands on his shoulders. "Don't worry! It's just me, Spain."

He starts to calm down a little bit and then looks up at me carefully. After a second, awed recognition crosses his face, and he starts to smile. "S-Spain...?"

I nod, echoing his expression, and he tackles me with a hug.

"Y-you're o-okay!" he gets out as he cries harder.

I grin, hugging him back. "Yes, I am. Your brother is, too. Well, he hurt his leg, but he's very alive."

Upon hearing this, Italy hugs a little harder. It's a while before we pull apart—I get the feeling we've both been needing a good hug.

"Do you want to go see him?" I start, standing up and offering a hand. "He has to be worried since he hasn't seen you in a while."

A guilty frown flashes across his face before he lets me help him up. "O... Okay." He doesn't seem nearly as happy at the idea of seeing his brother as he should. "But... I... I'm not staying with you guys again, o-okay?"

Moving my hand to his shoulder, I start leading him back toward Romano. "Why not?"

"I-I don't want to see you get hurt."

"Well, we'll just have to not get hurt, then."

He starts to trail behind me, and I pull him along.

"B-but you can't really do that if I-I'm around," he says quietly.

I think for a second. "But we got caught in Japan's traps when you weren't around."

"And then he killed you with the sword I gave him!" He starts quivering harder. "And France killed you with the knife I gave him, a-and—"

I cut him off there. "But you were just trying to keep them safe, right? And France did that and ended up home. You sure helped him out. And I'm sure Japan's home by now, the way he's been going after it."

"B-but _you_ still died! Both of you died! And Romano had to die again by that tree because I let him get killed the first time, by the sword I gave Japan, a-and even Austria and Hungary died because they helped me out, and they're g-going to die all over again because I was a-around, and everybody around me d-dies, and I—" he starts to squirm out of my grasp—"I-I shouldn't even go see Romano, and I shouldn't even stay with you anymore. It's too dangerous, and I d-don't want you to get hurt, a-and I'm sorry, I should have run away before y-you even got to me, b-because n-now y-you'll die a-again, t-too..." By this point, he's crying too hard to go on.

"Italy..." If I weren't keeping a firm grip on his shoulders, I think he would have collapsed to the ground by now. "Italy. Just because you were around doesn't mean all of that was your fault." I start to lead him forward again, but he refuses to move. "Everybody's after each other out here, you know? People are getting killed whether you're there or not. You're just around for a lot of them because... you've been around a lot of nations, and you run around the island a lot. I guess you could sort of blame yourself for Japan and France killing me, but... don't. They decided to do what they did. You didn't make them."

Italy just stands there shaking and weeping, and I'm not sure if he even heard what I said. I consider repeating it, but then he stiffens up and stares ahead fearfully. Swallowing, I turn my head to see what attacker could scare him so much.

It's just Romano, limping toward us. Italy hollers something at him, but it's too incoherent to make out. I'm guessing he told Romano to go away, because now I'm having a hard time keeping Italy in my grasp. He struggles so much I have to wrap my arms around his torso tight to keep him from getting away.

"Crap, Spain, what did you do to him?" Romano grumbles.

"Nothing! He's just scared to be around anyone, and I'm trying to keep him from running off."

Italy's only contribution to the conversation is whimpering as his brother comes to a stop next to us.

Romano humphs with a frown. "Well, the killing each other thing back there worked, if you're interested. At least for Hungary. Austria's just over there rotting again."

"Hooray!" I give Italy a little shake. "See? Somebody else is off the island! Not everything's bad!" But Italy's still sniveling and quivering, and I end up sighing. "Romano, did you really have to say he was rotting...?"

"Hell yeah." Romano crosses his arms and nods at Italy. "He was trying to kill you, remember?"

Italy shakes his head. "I-I think he just w-wanted make me g-go away... A-and I fell f-for it, and h-he died..."

"But Hungary's home," I bring up, but it doesn't help at all. I squeeze Italy a little. "Hey, quit thinking like this! You're our cheerful little scamp! You're supposed to look on the bright side of life!" This doesn't get much of a reaction. "You _are_ glad she's home, aren't you?"

Italy struggles to nod.

"Then let's celebrate!" I say. "We don't have any food, but we could have a puddle-drinking party or something. Does that sound fun to you, Italy?"

"U-uh-huh." Italy's actually starting to calm down a little bit, so I loosen my arms a fraction. He doesn't try to get away, so I smile at him.

"Let's go find some good puddles, then!" I look over at Romano, who doesn't look pleased. "This is all right with you, right, Romano?"

"Sure," he mutters, waiting for Italy and me to pass him before limping after us.

Gradually, I'm able to guide Italy by just one of his shoulders. We find a clear enough patch of puddles by sunset. I really like this party idea. I'm still starved for water, especially after that run.

I'm the first to kneel down by the water, and I offer to help Romano down, but he says he's fine on his own. Italy kneels by my other side and carefully puts a cupped hand under the water. I get a handful and raise it high for an island toast.

"To Hungary's safety!"

I bump hands with Italy, who doesn't seem to quite get it, and Romano, who watches disapprovingly as some of his handful splashes back into the puddle. Then I take a drink and, realizing with that wonderful taste how thirsty I really am, down another handful.

About then, Romano splutters and barks my name, pointing at Italy.

Pointing at where Italy was.

Spluttering myself, I get up and look around. "Italy?" He's nowhere in sight, and it's getting pretty dark now. "Italy!"

I turn toward Romano. "Did he go off that way?"

"I don't know, dammit!" He squints into the trees by the beach. "You might as well try already, though!"

"Okay, okay!" I get up and run off. If he knows I found his footprints last time, he'd definitely go for the beach, right?

After a minute, I've made it to the edge of the trees, and I can see a figure running off to my right. I go after him, just able to make out Italy's hair color in the dimming light. "Italy! Stop!"

He turns his head to see me and keeps running. He's not that far—he must be tired, too—so maybe I can catch him—

A branch flies hard into my face, and I'm too stunned not to fall backward. By the time I've somewhat recovered, I have no idea where Italy went. I also realize I'm not near any trees that would have hit me. Italy threw that himself.

How desperate would he have to be to do that...? If... he's that scared... I guess I really have no business trying to keep him with us...

Crestfallen, I stand and head back to Romano.


	44. Calling upon the Zombies

Author's Note: So, I would like to share my plan for world domination. Not the one with Morgan's zombie army and Weckiai's giant Brazilian peacocks. The one where I get a hit from every country. I've been doing well, but I would like to enlist your help. I'm probably closest to dominating Europe, so, please, if you have any friends in Andorra, Monaco, Liechtenstein, Vatican City, Kosovo, Albania, Macedonia, and/or Moldova, direct them to my stories? And I also have most of the Americas within my grasp, but I don't have Guyana, Suriname, or French Guiana, and I'm not entirely sure how many Caribbean islands I'm missing.

Thank you for your assistance. We can attack the remaining continents when the time comes.

I don't own the characters mentioned in this chapter. You wouldn't recognize any of the characters I own... yet.

But until I have a wildly successful publishing career, I'm writing for reviews. So... your payment, please?

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><p><em>America<em>

It's really hot wherever I am. Where is wherever I am? Somewhere sandy, and... I don't know what I'm leaning on. And I also feel sick and bloated. Have I eaten a lot recently? Or at least more than usual? Bleargh...

I stir a little, but I feel too heavy to do much moving. And I'm really tired. That must have been one hardcore eating contest I was apparently in. And I'm guessing alcohol was involved, because I can't remember anything and my head hurts like crazy.

"America!"

I open my eyes, but it's so bright I have to squint again. My vision's kind of blurry, but...

Hey, where's Texas? I don't feel any glasses on my face.

I consider reaching up to feel and check, but my arms are too heavy. It's not like I need glasses to see clearly, but still. Wonder where they went.

"Oi. You awake?"

"Grmmhumrrm?" I get out before yawning. Finally deciding to at least try it, I lift my hands—augh, this is tiring—and rub at my eyelids until I'm more comfortable opening them. Yeah, my glasses are definitely missing.

A couple feet ahead, someone's squatting and looking at me. I'm still kind of hazy, and I really can't concentrate with this headache, but eventually I figure out it's England.

"Hi, England." My tongue feels funny. "Was I drinking last night, 'cause my head really hurts. Actually, I still feel sorta drunk now."

I think he frowns, but my vision still hasn't cleared up. "Well, at the very least, I'm sure you have a concussion."

"A concussion? What the crap was I _doing_ last night?"

"You were still dead last night."

"Huh?" I try to think, but my head just hurts too much. "Why did I die?"

"I wasn't around to see, but I think China killed you. Trying to get home. You at least remember The Rules, don't you?"

I try to sit up a little while I'm thinking. It's kind of difficult. "...Yeah. Yeah, I remember that. Are we still on the island?"

"Indeed."

"That's not good." I still can't see very well, so I reach to rub at my eyes again. Except I can see well enough to realize there is something up with my hands. Or something seriously wrong with my hands.

They're purple. And a little green, and a little black. And a little puffy. And the nails look kinda loose. I end up staring at them for a minute. "Uh..."

England exhales. "Yes, the immortality hasn't been coming back at tip-top speeds recently."

I stretch out my right arm, which is in about the same condition as my hands. "So, I'm just, like... a rotting corpse right now. Except I'm alive again."

"That seems to be the case, yes."

I sit here a minute, taking it in. It's getting easier to keep my arm held up now that I'm a little more awake. I wonder if I could stand yet. Hmm...

I take a second to figure out exactly how far away England is before I prep myself and pounce on him.

"_I'm gonna eat your brains!_"

I completely took England by surprise, but he still manages to shove me off him without much extra fighting. I collapse on the sand giggling. I'm a freaking zombie! This is so cool, this is so coo-ool!

"Sorry," England pants, "but I don't think even your stomach is big enough to handle all of that." He coughs. "Now, please, don't attempt to come that close to me again. You smell disgusting."

I push myself to my knees with some struggle. "Oh, please, I've been in con funk worse than thi—Holy crap!" I stare at him gaping.

He draws back a little, perplexed. "Wh-what? Is my face still a bit rotten or something?"

"No..." I just keep staring for another minute, it's so unreal. "But... _Dude_. You—your eyebrows look _normal_."

He blinks. "Really?" After glancing over toward a puddle, he shakes his head and scowls at me. "I-I mean—you wake to find yourself amnesiac and rotting, and your main concern is the condition of my eyebrows?"

"But it's _weird_," I whine, poking at his forehead.

"Will you stop that?" He swats my hand away, and I'm too tired to keep it from dropping to the sand. He rubs at where I poked him and wrinkles his nose.

"Oh, come on," I say. "If you thought the smell of rotting meat was that bad, you'd be a lot better cook."

He just shoots me a glare before using some seawater to scrub off his brow.

"Except the smell really isn't as strong as it should be," I start, sniffing my arm. I don't pick up anything. I mean, I'm no bloodhound, but I'd think I could smell myself rotting.

"Uh... England? I don't think I can smell anything."

England brushes some hair out of his face as he watches me. "Well, I'm sure you have brain damage..."

"Works for me." I shrug and then flop down on the sand. "I'm tired."

"Welcome to the club." England gets to his feet after a little bit of wobbling. "I'm going to go hunt down some food. You just stay out of trouble and play dead if you need to. I'm sure anyone would fall for it, the way you look."

"Food?" I echo. England looks like he's starting to regret bringing that up. Except I'm really not very hungry. I feel too sick to eat. I don't even feel like drinking water, even though I'm thirsty at the same time. I just... ugh.

It's a minute before I realize England's almost in the woods.

"Hey, wait!" I call, getting to my feet. "Don't you want me to come and watch your back?"

"My back's been fine the last couple of days," he says. "I only now have some decent arrows for shooting, but—"

I jump. "You have arrows?"

He heaves a sigh. "Yes. But very few of them! I'll be the only one doing the shooting, thank you. Just stay here so I won't have to be distracted by your stench. Or your jabbering, which is sure to come as well." When he stoops to pick up his bow, he nearly falls face-first.

I hurry over. "Whoa! You obviously need the hero along with you. You are not well."

"Nor are you!" he snaps.

"Yeah, well, two unwell people are still better than one."

England sighs. "Fine. Just stay downwind of me, don't open your mouth, and don't even think I'm going to let you use the bow."

"Okay!" I start to go into the trees before a wave of nausea hits me. My response is making a gagging sound and putting a hand over my stomach. But my wrist makes contact too soon, and I look down to see my belly sticking out a lot farther than I remember it being.

"What's wrong with my stomach?" I cry aloud. England shifts his gaze toward me, and I get nervous and turn away. "Well, don't look at it!"

England rolls his eyes and faces away. "Relax. You certainly haven't put _on_ any weight since you got here. That's just gas from the bacteria eating your internal organs."

"Oh, yeah, real relaxing!"

He snorts and starts through the trees. "Now, about you promising to keep your mouth shut..."

I make a grumbling sound and obediently slide my fingers over my lips like I'm zipping them shut. My hand drops back to my side, and I start tottering after him. He's not going very fast, but it's still hard to keep up. It's really hot out here. I feel hot, too. Maybe I have a fever or something. Or maybe it's from the crap freaking eating my insides!

Oh, man, is that why I'm not hungry? Are there still, like, gaping holes in my stomach or something? Oh, I'm gonna barf...

Okay, no, I'm not. I had to survive on England's cooking. I'm impervious to barfing. ...But I still don't feel good.

We only get a little bit farther before England stops and slumps back against a tree. "Let's... rest... for a minute," he gets out between gasps for breath. We can't have been hiking for more than two minutes, and it looks like he's struggling to stay conscious. He's not doing very well.

Of course, I feel like I'm going to drop dead any second now, but whatever. The hero can handle this.

We spend a while in the shade trying to recover. Eventually England stops breathing so hard, but he still doesn't head out.

Wiping some sweat off his forehead, he curses. "I'd better find some food today. I'm not sure I'll survive another few days without." He takes a deep breath. "Here's hoping I actually hit whatever I find. Between starvation and not having shot arrows like this for... a long while, I can't be sure." He starts to push himself away from the trunk and grimaces. "I'll have to get lucky."

He looks over at me, and I roll my lips inside my mouth to show I'm still not talking. Except my lips taste so nasty I push them back out within a second.

England shrugs and, after another minute, finally leads us off again. He motions for me to hang back a little bit more, so I stop and let him walk ahead a bit. It's hard to start walking again afterward, but if I drag my feet, it's a little better. Thankfully, it's not long before England freezes, and I get to stop behind him. He starts putting the end of an arrow on his bowstring before I see a bird hopping around the end of a branch. England steadily lifts the bow, aims, and slowly pulls the arrow back. He hesitates one more second before letting go. The bird drops to the ground.

Getting excited, I hurry over to look. It's definitely dead. Of course, there's an arrow going straight through its eye.

I just keep looking, overwhelmed by coolness, as England comes up and squats by the bird.

"Oh," he comments disappointedly, "I didn't quite hit the center of its eye." Then he laughs, reaching to pull the arrow out.

I splutter for a minute before I figure out what I'm trying to say. "You're like _Hawkeye_! Or Katniss! Or..."

He smirks, looking over his shoulder at me. "Can you relate through anything besides Hollywood films?"

I try to think, but my headache's acting up again. "Well, there's comic books, but that's what I was thinking of with Hawkeye, anyway. But the _Avengers_ movie _was_ really cool." I ponder this for a moment as he cleans the arrowhead with the end of his tie.

He starts to put the arrow back with the others before I interrupt. "But you shooting that was really cool, too, and can I fire an arrow, please, please, please?"

"First of all, one doesn't 'fire' arrows." Rubbing his arm, he starts to get back to his feet. "Secondly, you've never shot one in your life, have you?"

I pout. "I've seen it on TV, though! And I shoot guns all the time!"

"Just stop talking." England says, lifting up the bird. "Now, as punishment for breaking every single rule I gave you a moment ago, you get to carry this while I look for another food source." He waves the bird toward me. "Preferably by the feet, since we might not have to eat that part."

Still pouting, I take the game and struggle to stand back up.

England watches, not looking happy. "If you can't even stand easily, you have no business trying to protect me."

"Sure I do!" I grit my teeth and push myself up harder. "It doesn't matter what condition I'm in." I pull on branches to get myself the rest of the way up. "The hero always protects the ones around him. No matter what." I smile at him even though I'm really on the verge of passing out.

He sighs, rubbing at his arm again. "I know you won't let me talk you out of it, so I won't. Just try not to die of exhaustion, all right?"

"Don't worry," I pant, "that's on my to-do list, too."

After a minute of standing here, England leads us off again, and I follow him carefully. The black blotches aren't spotting my vision anymore, but I still can't see that clearly. It'll be a while before I get much better. But I can handle it. I haven't died yet, have I? Well, of exhaustion. I kinda wish I hadn't died yet at all, because being a zombie is a lot less fun when you get to think about how tired and sick you are instead of just going on a mindless, brain-eating rampage. My head really hurts, too...

Regardless, I trail England for a while and a few more rest stops before he gets ready to shoot again. He aims and pulls back, but his pulling arm is shaking really hard. He grimaces, lowers the bow, rubs his arm, and tries again. He can't keep his arm any more still, but he goes ahead and lets the arrow fly. The head pins a squirrel's tail to the tree behind it.

England says something breathlessly, and it takes me a minute to realize he told me to go get it. I'm a lot farther from that tree than him, but the squirrel's trying to get free. If it does, England's probably either going to starve or kill me. So I should probably go get it.

My feet hit the ground hard as I hurry over. The animal is pawing at the arrowhead now and squirming on top of it. It takes me a minute, but I guess England still managed to hit the guy good enough to keep him stuck. I get to the squirrel and wring its little neck.

"Thanks," I hear England say. He hasn't come any closer to the squirrel—he's just leaning back against another tree, chest heaving.

"Uh-huh." I grab the arrowhead as well I can. "You okay back there?"

"Fine."

I start to pull the arrow out, but it doesn't come. Frowning, I pull a little harder. "Did you have superglue on this or something?" I grunt, putting a foot on the tree for leverage and pulling again.

"No." He frowns. "It wasn't my strongest shot, either. You of all nations should be able to pull it out easily."

"I know!" I struggle with it a little longer before it finally starts to slide out. "Frick," I pant. "I guess I'm just tired." I keep working on it.

"Does your strength usually fade that much when you're tired?"

"Well, no, but..." I get the head out, and the squirrel tumbles to the ground.

"Hm." England starts to push himself from the tree but gives up. "Well... In any case, you may go ahead and start cooking those." He waves vaguely towards the game. "I don't think I can shoot another arrow today. We'll have to wait and see about tomorrow."

"Kay." I pick up the squirrel and the bird. "Can I just use the arrowhead to cut them up, or...?"

"That's fine." England slides down the tree until he's sitting. I watch him for a second after he closes his eyes, and then I start working on the bird. I don't know what kind it is. It seems familiar, but I"m not a... birdologist. As long as we can eat it, I don't care.

Well, as long as England can eat it. I'm still not hungry, and he really doesn't look good. I mean, I'll probably be starving once I'm a little bit back to normal, but that just means I'll eat when I'm a little bit back to normal. Especially if England starts getting better and shoots down more of these guys.

Most of the bird meat is ready when I hear something crashing through the brush. I look back at England, but he's still sitting there. His eyes are open wide now, though.

Setting the meat on the pile of feathers, I slowly get to my feet and look over where the noise is coming from. Frowning, I glance over at England and whisper that someone's coming.

He curses and starts to get up.

"What are you doing? I'll handle them."

"At this point you can't handle anyone better than me!" he whispers harshly. "But you have it easy—just lie down and play dead."

"What about you?"

"I'll..." He struggles to put his weight back on his feet. "I'll run."

I frown and walk over to him. "No, you won't." I push down on his shoulders. Even if I'm a lot weaker than normal, it's enough to make his knees buckle and send him to the ground. "Stay hidden. I've got this covered."

"No, you d—"

"Ssh!"

I look over toward the approaching figure but can't make out who it is. But I think they're coming faster. We were talking quiet, but they probably saw me moving around. Okay...

I start walking that way slowly, but I do try to keep kind of hidden. It's another minute before I finally see who it is. I can't make out his face, but there's definitely some dark hair in a ponytail. So it's China. But he already killed me, right? So he'd be coming after England.

And so the gallant hero will save the damsel in distress...! Or maybe I shouldn't call England a damsel. He'd probably punch me for that. Anyway.

I stay between a few trees as China comes closer. Holding my breath, I wait a little while longer, until he's just far enough he won't be able to hit me with his wok immediately.

I burst out of the brush, arms raised, look at him with crazy eyes, and scream, "_Brains!_"

China yelps, jumping, but I take a staggering step toward him before his eyes go wide and he turns to run. I take a few more slow steps and holler for his brains again, and he just keeps hightailing it. It's not long before he's completely out of sight.

"If you're about to burst into loud, obnoxious laughter, I recommend you muffle yourself first." I'm not quite far enough from England not to hear his comment.

"Kay," I choke out before laughing into my sleeve so hard I fall to the ground.

That was, like, _the_ most awesome thing I have ever done.


	45. Don't Know What I Will Find

Author's Note: So, I don't mean to put spoilers, but we're nearing the end of this fic. (There will be a sequel, so don't panic too much.) Now, after the last chapter of this, I'm going to have a sort of bonus chapter. It will have a complete timeline and a list of the songs used for chapter titles, for sure. Is there anything else you would want me to include? I've considered a short summary of the story (50 to 100 words per chapter), maybe a comedic one, maybe a more concise one. Tell me your opinions, and I'll be happy to consider all of them (and that isn't me just using Japan's way to say no)!

I'll also be very happy to read all of the reviews. And you want me to be happy, don't you?

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><p><em>Estonia<em>

It's raining again. Not much more than the drizzle we had yesterday morning, but enough to keep us under cover. It's nice for things to cool down, but a long while of freezing rain is a bit much. Though I'll take what I can get. Might as well have plenty to drink even if we haven't had a bite for days.

Three days, to be exact. If we don't get anything by noon, I'm going to break out the few pistachios left. This is getting to be too much for me really fast. Poland seems fine as far as the energy to keep walking goes, but he's not happy about starving. If this briefcase were a little easier to open, I'm pretty sure he'd have swiped the food by now.

But it's not, so he's focused on finding more food. Well, as focused as he gets. Aside from talking about how we could waterproof the treehouses—I guess he's gone back to that whole idea now—he has been pretty on-track, though. He even rubbed a berry's insides over his inner elbow to see if it was poisonous, instead of just announcing its presence and popping it in his mouth. We've been waiting under the nearest tree since then to see what happens. I can already see the skin starting to break out, though.

Poland looks at the light pink splotches and frowns. "Is there, like, anything here we can eat?"

"I'm sure there's something somewhere," I sigh, looking at the berry bush. "I still haven't seen any cluster-type berries, but we could probably eat some leaves or roots. We'll have to check them out the same way, though."

Thunking his head back against the tree, Poland groans. "So, there's probably something we can eat, but we have to do so much to find it we're, like, never actually going to eat it."

"Not necessarily," I answer slowly, watching rain drip off the bush's leaves. They're probably not very tasty, but I might try to test them, anyway. Get through the wildlife quick before I get hungry enough to eat without thinking. Hopefully that's still sort of far off...

Something makes a loud fluttering noise. By the time I register the bird plucking one of the berries, it's almost ready to take off again. I fumble trying to get a knife out of my belt, while Poland decides to attempt tackling the bird. It takes off before his arms hit the leaves, and I hurriedly throw the knife, but I'm off by a long shot. Poland jumps for the time, but by the time he turns to throw, the bird has disappeared.

"Stupid bird!" Poland stares into the rain before handing my knife back. "We, like, can't eat it after it dies from the berries, can we?"

"Eh, no." I put the knife back. "But the berries might not be poisonous for it, anyway."

"Man." Poland puts his head back against the bark for a moment. "Want to, like, look for another bush, then?"

I switch my briefcase back to my right hand. "Sure. We're still looking for England or Spain, anyway."

And with that, we're off. The next bush we find is the same type as the last one, so we keep going. After a couple of minutes, there's a different berry bush, and I volunteer to test it on my elbow this time. Carefully crushing one of the better-looking berries in my fingers, I rub the juice on my skin, and we wait.

About the time my elbow's starting to itch, I spot a figure in the distance. I notify Poland, and he starts to lead us over. Hopefully we're not going straight for an enemy. But Russia, Belarus, and Switzerland are already gone, and we can probably reason with anyone else.

We're still a distance away when he notices us, but we can't make him out clearly through the rain. Judging from the hair color, it's China, Japan, or Austria. We don't have to get much closer before it's obviously Japan. And he doesn't look very good. His skin's a bit mottled—not nearly as bad as Spain was, but still not normal for a living nation—and he looks sort of stretched out, hollow. Poland and I are getting thin, too, but we're not that bad. Japan's shirt is practically disintegrating from all of the blood on it—I have on idea why he still has it on—and there's definitely something wrong with his lips. They're all chewed up, and a few of the cracks look infected. I think I'll keep my distance.

Would Japan know anything about the stars? He didn't really come to mind before, but everyone's worth a shot.

But Poland's the one to break the ice. "Is that, like, food?" Polite as always, Poland.

Japan, leaning against some branches, tilts his head down a bit to look at the three fruits in his arms. "Yes, this is m—" he cringes at his lips pressing against each other—"my food. I would offer you one, but I'm not in much of a position to, I'm afraid."

"That's, like, fine. You don't have to offer it. I can just take it."

I think to elbow Poland in the ribs, but that food does look awfully good...

Japan quietly puts his weight back on his feet. "You will not take it."

Either Poland's gotten pretty desperate, or he made friends with Japan when I wasn't looking, because he still hasn't cowered away. "No, really. Like, three fruits and three starving nations. I can figure out what's supposed to happen."

"As can I," Japan responds evenly. "This is my food, and you will not take it. You will not touch it."

"Oh, really?" Curling up his fingers, Poland stares him down.

Japan meets his stare. "Yes. For the sake of all involved, I recommend you walk away now. Others trifling with my food has the propensity to anger me."

Poland watches him for another second before lunging at the fruit.

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><p>I don't like Japan when he's angry.<p>

At least it wasn't my doing, so I escaped unscathed, and at least Japan's worn out enough not to pursue us to the ends of the island. Though I can't understand how anyone that emaciated could still be so threatening. What... What does he do when he's angry _and_ healthy? Just...

...Yeah. I'll get to un-dislocating Poland's shoulders once we've run a little farther.

The rain starts to let up, and we come to a stop with the shore in sight. Poland wobbles into a seated position, whimpering. I get a good look back to make sure Japan is totally out of sight before getting down on my knees.

"Okay," I start, taking a deep breath, "I'll try to get them back straight. It'll probably be a little easier on you if you lie down."

Poland nods, shuffling around a little, and I help him down.

"All right. It's going to hurt, but don't worry—I've done this before." I look over my shoulder again, just in case, and then take his wrist, carefully bending the elbow. After an unpleasant minute for Poland, the shoulder is back in, and I give him a second to recover before working on his other one. It's a bit more troublesome—apparently his elbow dislocated, too, so it's impossible to get everything set straight without a lot of writhing on poor Poland's part. Wish we had some painkillers around here. Honestly, we probably do, but I don't really know what they look like naturally.

I tell Poland to stay still and rest, and I'll figure out what to do about a sling. Trying to get his shirt off him is out of the question, so I'll probably use mine. Oh, well. It's usually too hot for this thing, anyway. Hopefully it won't rain much longer.

I've just started to unbutton the collar when I hear rustling. Japan—!

I look around wildly for him, but all I can see is a quivering couple of branches near the sand. Surely Japan wouldn't be hiding from us if he's angry, right? It's probably someone else, anyway. Or another bird.

Telling Poland to wait here for a minute, I draw my knife and walk over quietly. If it is an animal, I wouldn't want to scare it away. At the same time, I hope it's not a nation thinking I'm trying to sneak up on him...

I lower the knife a bit and approach quietly. I'm halfway around the tree before I see England, pulling a string tight around a stick and feathers with the aid of his teeth. He looks up at me, suspicious, but finishes what he's doing.

The knife goes back in my belt loop. "Ah, England!" I think to ask him how he is, but I don't imagine I'll get anything back but sarcasm. As far as the weight loss goes, he's not any better than Japan was. "I've actually been looking for you."

"Yeah?" He finishes tying and lays his hands casually over the arrow and its accompanying bow. "Why's that?"

I look back at Poland one last time before diving into my spiel about getting messages to the others, and the stars. "And, since you've done a lot of sea navigating, I figured you'd be the one to ask about that. Do you think you could make one of those... for lack of knowledge, thingamabobs—that tells you the location?"

"I suppose you mean a sextant." He rolls his shoulders back. "I've never made one myself, but I've probably used them enough to try my hand at it." He closes his eyes for a moment, though I can't tell whether he's thinking to trying not to fall asleep. "But," he mutters, "I would need mirrors. And considering France is nowhere to be seen, I don't think we have much access to any of those out here."

"Oh." I don't think it's worth the effort to keep disappointment out of my voice.

England shrugs. "I doubt I would make a viable model, anyway. We wouldn't want to send them scouring over some other part of the ocean, would we? Besides, it's likely this is an entirely magical environment. There's a reason they haven't found us yet."

"Ah..." And the bad part about asking England. But it doesn't really matter at this point, I guess. "Well... Do you think you could guess our location just by looking at them tonight?" I glance at the rainclouds. "If it clears up."

"I could give it a shot." He stretches. "I've certainly seen a lot of skies around the world, but I can't say I've exactly memorized each location's. We'll see."

"All right, then."

We stay silent for a second before someone else speaks. "Can I add a comment?"

"You may." England looks over his shoulder towards the sand, and I make out a dark blur behind the leaves. I move around until I can more clearly see America, about as purple and green as Spain was last time I saw him. It's a little hard to recognize his face, since it's so off and he doesn't have his glasses. But it is America. And I should probably tell Poland not to come over here or he'll barf. But we can get to that later.

America doesn't do much moving aside from his mouth. "So, we're trying to figure out what's going on by looking at stars, and we're not asking the first guy to get to the moon. Just saying."

England rolls his eyes. "We can let you look at the stars tonight, too. Don't worry."

"I don't have to wait. I've been looking at them plenty since we got here." America pauses to blink as a raindrop falls onto his forehead. "First of all, we're in the southern hemisphere. Not all that far south, but definitely southern hemisphere." He looks like he's going to go on, but I stop him.

"Hang on a second. I'll get my pen and paper out." I sit down and shuffle through my briefcase, getting out what I need and shutting it again. I set the paper on top and click the pen open. "All right. So, southern hemisphere..." I look at the paper for a second. "Do you think I should write any preliminary notes on this? To see if they can find it, or...?"

"Well, they won't be able tho send a message back," England says, shifting his legs. "No need to waste any space on that."

I nod. Looking back at the paper for a moment, I finally write, "Looking at the stars, America puts us somewhere in the southern hemisphere."

"All right, I have that much written down. What else do we know?"

"Not sure," America says. "What day is it? I can't keep track of how long we've been here."

"Ah." I go back through papers until I find the one with tallies for the days. "This should be the eighteenth day." I glance at the heading of the agenda. "And the meeting was on the sixteenth, so... Today... is the third."

America seems confused. "The third...?"

"Of July," I clarify.

America's face contorts in horror. "It's July already? The _third_ of July already?" The emotion on his face is so strong I'm surprised he's not banging his fists on the ground or something. "I'm going to be stuck here on my birthday! I'm gonna miss the fireworks! And the hot dog eating contest! And, ohh... All of the hot dogs and hamburgers... There are going to be so many... And I'm gonna miss all of it and be stuck here eating nothing... I think I'm gonna cry. I really think I'm gonna cry."

"Oh, shut up!" England responds, glaring at him. "There are many more important things at hand than your stupid little birthday!"

America raises his eyebrows. "Wow, you're super-pissed all of a sudden."

"Wha—I'm not drunk at all!"

"What?" America responds.

"What?" England says back.

They stare at each other for a minute before England finally says, "You meant 'pissed off,' didn't you?"

"Uh... Yeah?"

"Guys?" I start awkwardly. "Do you mind if we get back to the stars and everything? Kind of important and all..."

England crosses his arms. "That's fine by me. America's the one having a temper tantrum over his stupid birthday."

America shrugs with his eyebrows. "Fine, I'll freak out about it later. So, the stars..." He closes his eyes tight. "On July 3, and that was over there, and... Uh..." After a minute, he opens his eyes. "What's that ocean that's not one of mine?"

England looks at him sideways. "Do you mean the one by India?"

"Maybe?"

England sighs heavily and then turns to me. "Disregarding his wonderful skill in geography, you might as well stick around until nightfall. If we really are in that area, I've done enough sailing there to see the skies. Let's see if I can figure it out."

"Sounds like a plan to me," I say, looking back at my paper. I make a note on America perhaps putting us in the Indian Ocean, tear off the written-on part of the paper, and carefully place it out of the rain. It should be gone in a minute if no one keeps an eye on it.

"Well," I say, latching the briefcase up again, "I'll go let Poland know what's going on, and I'll be back by nightfall."

"All right," England says. "Considering I'm too tired and America felt like pushing himself enough he couldn't move if he tried, we won't be going anywhere."

I nod and stand. "See you in a few more hours."

"See you," America calls as I head back towards Poland.


	46. There Must Be Some Misunderstanding

Author's Note: I was going to update sooner, but I got stuck, like, thrice this chapter. But I made it through! Feel free to celebrate my victory by reviewing.

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><p><em>Japan<em>

I carefully continue peeling the fruit. Though I'd like to, I know I can't eat the whole thing at once. I haven't had enough to eat for too long for me to handle this much. But I'm so tired, I know I at least need some fuel.

I suppose some of that weariness is because of my outburst with Poland a few hours ago. Going that far was really a waste of energy. But he tried to take my food. Some action was necessary, and I just went a bit overboard. That's a usual occurrence with anger, isn't it? I'm still not all that familiar with it...

Carving a chunk out of the fruit, I carefully take a bite. I'd rather none of this have to touch my lips. Not only are they painful, but some of the wounds there are infected. I probably should have cleaned them out with saltwater by now, but... I don't quite trust myself around impure water sources any more. And I'm too far from the shore now to try it. Maybe I'll at least try to rinse with rainwater, just to get rid of the pus.

I swallow all of this morning's rations and then start to wash my lips. It isn't a pleasant process, but they feel a bit cleaner after I'm done. But I'm sure that hasn't gotten rid of everything. I'll still be careful not to lick my lips unthinkingly.

Putting the cut fruit with the others, I push myself off the tree and slowly begin walking again. The rain is lovely, but the ground is becoming less and less stable, and I'm having enough difficulty walking without that. But that's all right. Little progress is certainly better than none.

Shivering, I let the rain rinse off my katana before putting it back in its sheath. It would be better to dry it off first, but I'm rather soaked. And the blade is already in a state of disrepair. It'll need a lot of work if I want to use it after all of this.

Most of what came here with me is beyond saving. Not even including the bottoms I ripped off, my trousers are torn. My shirt is hopelessly stained and shredded to the point it's not covering enough to be comfortable. It's even missing a good portion of sleeve from my fight with Canada. My shoes and socks are filthy and full of holes as well.

And I'm going to need a bit of repair myself. But that's not going to happen if I don't get to China soon. He's the last one. He must be my nation. I only have to kill one more, and my people and I will finally be safe. That alone is enough to keep me going.

And I'm certainly still going. I haven't seen anyone since Poland and Estonia, but I won't lose hope. Less nations being here does not necessarily mean China is gone, too. And I'm just too close to be trapped here now. China's still here. I know he is.

Pushing down all of the aches, I continue to step carefully forward. It's easier to walk on the grass than the mud, but they're almost one and the same at this point. Though there are quite a few protruding sections of root to step on as well...

I progress a bit more before looking through the branches to see China. After the initial burst of surprised excitement, I calm myself. It's quite possible I'm imagining it again. I'll draw a bit closer before I jump to conclusions.

I draw a bit closer, and China's still there. He's seated, legs bent in front of him. His wok rests on his knees, and he watches rain collect in the pot. He hasn't noticed me. If I could just sneak up on him quickly…

But it would be difficult to kill him quickly even then. My sword is so dull I had to saw a bit just to open up Canada's neck yesterday. And while China certainly doesn't look as healthy as normal, he's more well than Canada was. He could pull away before I make a lethal wound. And I doubt I could win a fair fight with him, when I'm like this.

Should I just talk to him? It didn't work last time, but now he knows he has nothing to gain in killing me. He should at least be willing to listen, right? And if all goes wrong, I could always attempt to trail him and attack later...

I keep my hand on my hilt without removing the katana, and I approach him. I'm about a meter away before he looks up. Upon seeing me, he tenses and seizes the wok handles. I stop here, just in case. He's undoubtedly been through a lot out here. He may reflexively attack me and do more damage than he plans.

That would seem a bit far-fetched if I were in better condition. China's certainly not as starved and beaten as me, but it's easy to tell this place has taken a toll on him. He doesn't look like he's been sleeping much, either.

"China," I start quietly, dipping my head.

China continues to look at me with a dubious frown. "Japan."

We watch each other for a while before he turns back to the pool of water in his wok.

"Not feeling well enough to attack me outright, aru?"

"No, I'm not." I pause before carefully sitting down next to him. "Perhaps it would be better to talk things out either way."

"Huh." He silently watches the drops of water leaping all over the puddles. "So... You still want to kill me."

I try to meet his gaze, but he's still not looking my way. "I wouldn't, if I didn't think it was necessary. Know it was necessary." He turns toward me a bit, and I look him in the eye. "China. You are the last nation here that I haven't killed. I know with certainty you are the one I must kill to return home."

China exhales, looking back at his wok. His grip still hasn't loosened. "I guess I shouldn't have killed you earlier, then, aru," he mumbles.

"That's all right. At least you know now you don't need to kill me." Of course, I already knew that, but it doesn't hurt for him to have more proof than my word. Especially since I haven't let my word be that reliable out here.

"Yeah..." He shuts his eyes. "It's not that I don't want you to get home, aru. It's that I want to go with you." The corners of his lips move up, but not quite enough to be called a smile. "And if you kill me, I don't know if I'll come back, aru. Just because we lucked out before doesn't mean I want to risk it again, aru." He faces me, the half-smile still on his face. "And you wouldn't want to actually kill me, right?"

"Of course not!" I shake my head. "I would never. And I would not want to kill you now if I weren't sure you'd still come back."

China looks at me, expression neutral. "Why are you so sure, aru? There's no guarantee I'm coming back."

"Nor is there a guarantee you aren't," I reply, putting my hands on my knees as another chill goes through me. "Honestly, it doesn't make sense for you to die. And I know you won't. I just know it."

He shakes his head, frowning. "You want me to risk my life, permanently, because of a _feeling_ you have? What if you're wrong, aru?" He turns to look blankly into his wok. "Or do you really not know at all? And you just want to be polite about it, and not tell me you don't really care, aru?"

"That's not the case at all!" I gaze at him, brow furrowed, until he looks back at me. "China. I care if you live or die. I care deeply about it. That's why I tried to find you so much earlier, and why I would have stayed if I saw any hope of getting to you that way. But I'm still convinced there's time. So, please..." I close my eyes for a moment. I'm so tired it's difficult to keep myself awake, let alone alert. But this is important. "The more time we spend arguing, the more the immortality wanes."

China watches me for a moment. "Then why are you arguing with me at all, aru? Haven't you been sneaking up on us and slashing us open without much talking?"

"Ha. I suppose so. But that's out of the question for me now." I take a deep breath. "I don't think I'm capable of running, and my katana is dull enough—and seemingly heavy enough to me now—I can't say I could drive it as far as it needs to go in one strike. And if you retaliated, I would not win. I would probably die if you struck me with any force; I'm far below my usual strength."

I try to stifle another shiver, but I'm not entirely successful. "In fact, I'm near enough death without a fight. Cuts on my lips have been infected, and while I haven't been affected that much now... It's only a matter of time. I'm close enough to starvation, even with these few fruits, that I don't believe I could fight off any illness successfully. I have no doubt that if I stay here much longer, I will die. Whether or not I'll still have enough immortality at that point is just a hazy guess."

China is silent for a moment before responding. "So if you don't kill me, you die, aru."

"It seems that way." I lean back against the tree and let out a long exhale. The next time I look over at China, he's gone back to staring into his wok.

It's another minute before I say anything else. "I'm not trying to guilt you into this, nor can I force you to comply. It just depends on what you want."

He takes a drink from the wok and sighs. "I want us out of here, aru. I want us out of here, and alive, and back to as normal as we ever get. I don't want to die, and I don't want to murder anyone, and I don't want to panic again, and…" He slumps. "I just don't want The Rules to be true, aru. We can fight—we do that normally, anyway—but we shouldn't end each other, aru. I've seen too many nations end already." He cradles his forehead in his hands.

"No one's dead yet," I tell him. "And I won't die if I kill you, and you won't stay dead from me killing you now. There's nothing either of us can do about The Rules right now, but we can at least solve one problem."

China meets my gaze for a second before staring back into the puddles. After a while, he finally mutters, "Maybe, aru. I need to think about it for a minute."

"That's all right."

I wait here next to him. The rain has let up enough that I'm not sure it's not just the water left on the trees. Without the rainstorm's rhythmic pulsing, it's a bit easier to stay awake. I'm certainly grateful for that much. This is no time to nod off.

I glance at China before looking into the trees again. He's deep in thought. I could easily get the first hit in.

…And, really, if he's half-convinced, and with his weapon water-laden, he may not fight back.

But… I couldn't do that. Surely he's coming to believe me. I'll be patient. I'm not on the edge of death just yet. If it just takes a few more moments, I have no reason to throw away what trust I've allowed him. Not again.

The rain has cut off altogether when China turns back to me. He takes a deep breath, flips his ponytail to the shoulder farthest from me, and sets the wok down.

"All right, aru. Go ahead."

I nod solemnly and start to draw my katana out. "Thank you," I say quietly, bowing a bit.

"You're welcome," he responds with a grim smile. He takes one last deep breath before closing his eyes.

I turn the sharper edge toward him. "Good luck," I finish. "May the next nation you find be the one you must kill."

He nods, and I pause to make sure he's ready. He makes no attempt to escape or protest, so I apologize for having to do this and cut his neck open. After a short cry, he falls sideways—I keep his head from hitting a tree—and the blood starts to run into the puddly mud. He'll be dead before long. I'll be home before long…

I shut my eyes, letting the relief wash over me. When I open them, I'll be home. Safe. Ready to heal.

I open my eyes to find the trees haven't changed. China still lies on the mud, one hand brushing the wok, which touches his pool of blood. The red puddle is still growing a bit.

Ah. He hasn't actually died yet. I suppose I was just getting ahead of myself a bit.

Feeling a bit silly on top of the jitters, I close my eyes again and wait a minute longer. I open my eyes again. The scene is still the same. The pool of blood has settled, and when I check, China's pulse is gone. He's dead. But… But I should be home. I'm not home. Why am I not home? I'm supposed to be home!

Maybe… Did I miss someone? There's China, Russia, Belarus, Poland, Lithuania I didn't have to kill, Estonia, Latvia, England, Spain, France, Germany, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, Austria, Hungary, Italy, Romano, America, and Canada. That's… That's nineteen! Whom am I missing? Who…

I count my list a few more times before it finally dawns on me. Twenty of us, including me.

…Including me.

But no. I can't be my nation. I was Germany's. But…

I just stare blankly at the corpse in front of me for a while. China's dead, but I'm not home. I've killed them all, but I'm not home…

Then… Was another nation here? Was… What…

…Why can't I be my nation? For each of us, there is one nation we must kill. But that doesn't mean only one nation must kill me. Right? That must be it. I've been working on a false assumption this whole time. I could be my own nation.

But that also means even more may have to kill me. But… if I tried to get to them, I'd die too much to be sure I'll come back. And… if I've done this much, harmed this many others for fear of my life, surely one more act of cowardice wouldn't hurt much more.

I examine my blade, turning it toward myself. While I suppose it's also possible I've had to kill Lithuania, this is really my only option. Besides, with everything I've done, all the trusts I've betrayed, all the torture I've dealt out here to friends and enemies alike… Suicide is the best step to take.

Due to circumstances, there won't be much ritual to it. But it's still comforting, in a way. It's not only to make up for things, but it's the best I can do. And, if I'm just killing the wrong nation again… I can't imagine myself recovering any semblance of health. If, after all, anyone I've killed is staying dead… so am I.

I don't know what that bodes for my people. Even for my own sake, I don't want it to happen. That's the reason I've done this much, after all. I'll just have to hope. Take my life, and hope that one way or the other, things will work out.

Doing my best to stifle what fear remains, I aim my sword for my heart and fall upon it.


	47. Desperation in the Air

Author's Note: The last few updates are probably going to stay at this dreadful pace as I've had an increase in workload. I'll still do my best. Any less, and Germany would make me do laps.

He's also expecting you to do your best reviewing, by the way. If you choose to do any less, well... Good luck hiding.

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><p><em>Austria<em>

I awake disoriented. I'm aware that I'm lying face-up, but that's it at the moment. When I force my eyelids open, there's nothing but black above me. I'm able to make out some bright moonlight on leaves a bit later, but it's still a bit blurry and doesn't give me much information as to where I am.

I try to focus on the ground instead. I can't crane my neck to look, but I can feel it beneath my neck and hands. It's about what I would expect given the trees above me, though I'm in some sort of puddle and there's a knife in one hand. I feel caked in dirt, and something smells atrocious. I would leave the scene if I could move. But I cannot. I'll have to wait before I can clean myself off.

Between that thought and the general aching confusion, it's a relief when I nod off.

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><p>The second time I wake, things aren't that much clearer. I'm being baked by sunlight, though it's not quite in my eyes. The smell hasn't improved, and the feeling of filthiness is only more acute. There's a decent amount of grime under my clothing as well, and something seems to be on my stomach. How on earth did I get this filthy?<p>

I make an effort to stir, but only the slightest movement is possible. I won't be dragging myself to a creek anytime soon. Maybe Hungary would help...

...I was with Hungary? I get that feeling, but I can't remember much. I'm certain we were roaming about together at one point, but... She was killed, and... so was I? Yes, by Japan. And then... I believe we woke up, but I must have died again. I can't see Hungary anywhere...

I look around a bit, and my gaze eventually rests on the section of my arm that's visible. It's actually quite dirt-free. The strange, uneven clumping substance I must have felt the pressure of is just the skin. It's in a rather pitiful rotted condition. I'm sure I would be more upset about this if I were more aware, but I'm still a bit... off.

I roll my head around to face the leaves again but stop when the rest of my body comes into view. Enough buttons have come off my dress shirt that my stomach is visible. It appears to have split open. I suppose if my nerves were in better shape, I would be in intense pain right now. Hm...

Putting my head back on the ground, I watch the leaves blankly. I sort of hope my nervous system stays down a bit. Long enough my more significant wounds can heal first. I think my neck's bleeding a bit as well. I can't feel any blood trickling down the dead skin, but it seems like something's wrong.

I wonder if that was my death wound or just another rupture from decomposition. Or if I just had stomach injuries in the first place...

Something crashing through the trees interrupts my thoughts. Not much quieter than the snapping branches is a wheezing sort of panting. I look around a bit before I see someone fleeing. It's not long before someone else comes after them. The foliage is too thick in that direction for me to know who it is. It certainly looked like the pursuer was gaining, though. Especially with the prey already sounding like he's on his last breaths.

A startled cry is followed by a grinding sound of tumbling through dirt. The pursuer closes in, while the fallen one starts blubbering and begging for his life.

Is that Italy? Sounds about right. Have I seen him recently? I'm not sure...

I lie here dazed as the first shriek comes. It's followed by a few more clangs and screams, but both stop. Just when I'm sure possibly-Italy is dead, I hear more blubbering.

About that time, I also start to get back a bit of sensation in my stomach.

The as-winded but less-tortured pursuer speaks. But I'm losing what focus I had as the pain starts to blossom. All I can make out is something about getting hands out of the way, more incoherent begging, and another few clangs. The last one goes without an accompanying scream.

I have to breathe harder as it starts to feel like my stomach is exploding all over again. I can just make out the distant blood on the ground and the sudden absence of the pursuer before I pass out from the pain.

* * *

><p>Consciousness returns. My stomach is throbbing but withstandable. I still don't feel right, but I'm not that groggy.<p>

Daylight seems to be breaking. My surroundings are the same, but my skin is noticeably better. Still nauseatingly rotting and malodorous, but not in as poor shape. I can move a bit better, too. I'm sure I could sit up if I put my mind to it. Though I'm not completely sure how much my stomach has healed, so I won't attempt that just yet.

I was out for at least a day, though, correct? And judging from pain alone, my stomach is almost back to normal.

I dare to look. The skin is worse than my hands', but the gap seems to have been patched up. That's certainly good...

If this is good, this place is completely intolerable. If seeing my own skin purple and rotting, filth in itself, is good, this...

I can't stay here. I don't know how I'm going to get off, but I cannot stand this. It's going to be near impossible to kill other nations without Hungary's help, not to mention in this condition. But I cannot let this happen to me again. I cannot stay here. If I get back home now, will I heal at a reasonable rate? Could I spare myself a-a moment of this?

I must find my nation. I _must_. The immortality is draining, and if I come back next in a condition even worse than this, I... I... I shall be very upset.

My head is buzzing, and I have to lie here taking controlled breaths to calm down. Even that much is difficult with the smell, but I manage.

I don't want to move. That makes my diseased skin brush against itself, which is quite possibly the most disgusting sensation in the world. On top of that, I'm still worn down. It may not be impossible to move now, but it's still a strain.

Yet I need to move. I'm terribly dehydrated, and, considering the puddle beneath me is anything but water, I'll have to move to get anything fresh. There are a few tiny pools about, but they all seem to be a distance away. I'm going to have to rest a bit more before I can attempt to get at them. Though if I'm this dehydrated, who knows how much good rest would really do…

So I'll just have to lie here, unhealthy and rotted, in a pool of miscellaneous bodily fluids. I would much rather still be dead right now.

Or perhaps I should be more careful about saying that. Even if I was somewhat rotten before I last died, I've obviously been down for a considerable amount of time. And with how the healing process has become… The slowness is due to losing immortality, correct? So, the slower, the less of it left. It's reached a distressing amount by now. I can't really be sure I have enough left to survive another death, especially if I'm killed in this state. The more the decay process continues, the harder it must be to patch up.

I... I'm just not going to think about all of this. It's too horrible. Nor am I going to move. That's repulsive as well. I'll just lie here and not think about anything... Though I can't help myself from sensing, particularly smelling. I must be able to distract myself someway.

Where is Hungary? I can't see her anywhere. And we have our differences, but I seriously doubt she'd abandon me in these circumstances. She could have been killed, but I can't imagine her doing much running away first.

I'm regrettably snapped back to the present by a pair of flies. I try to blow them away before resorting to swatting. It still has little effect.

Hungary, then. So... What's the last thing I remember with her? We had been killed by Japan, and... I woke first. She had a pulse but was still healing. My back was still bleeding a bit, and I wasn't in good condition in terms of putrefaction. Nor was she, of course. I believe I shooed some insects away from her.

She must have woken up eventually, because I remember us talking in a similar state of decomposition. Maybe it was a day later. Yes, and we were talking about the dire state of things. That we needed to be more serious about this. And then...

...I'm not sure. I can't have been killed very long after that, unless the healing has suddenly been taking ridiculously longer. That seems implausible.

Hungary may be off the island, then? That seems logical, if we were going on the offensive, and she's no longer with me. Though I have to wonder how either of us could have gotten far.

Or... perhaps we didn't. Hungary killed someone, and I died. I wouldn't think it entirely outside of my nature to let her kill me. That must be what happened. Well, if my death helped get Hungary away from this mess, I think I can handle my condition a bit better.

But only a bit. It's still horrendous.

I try to remember more details, but it's impossible. Maybe it will come to me later. Until then...

I close my eyes and try to rest, but it isn't long before more crunching disturbs me. For a wild moment I think it's a fly crawling in my ear, but a glance around proves the contrary. Someone is treading on the foliage. I can't tell who until he makes a startled sound and comes my way. He passes enough branches for me to see his face. It's so hollowed out, with such crazed eyes, I'm almost sure my initial verdict of Canada is wrong. But no one else fits the picture any better.

But considering the look in his eyes and the well-used murder weapon in his arms, it's probably imprudent to lie here staring.

Attempting not to let the grotesqueness get to me, I push myself up on my elbows as he draws nearer. Getting to my feet may be too much to ask, but I should be able to defend myself somewhat if I just sit.

Canada continues stumbling towards me as I grit my teeth and sit up. I keep the rusted knife ready as he comes into my space. Gasping for breath, he looks in my general direction with a conflicted smile and totters closer. He still hasn't lifted the pipe, but with how his arms look he won't be swinging it any more than necessary. Thankfully, my weapon is lighter. All I must do is strike quicker.

Somewhere I wonder what has happened to this boy. This situation is certainly stressful, but it's not as if nations haven't gone through significant stress. I couldn't say what's wrong with him. But he certainly looks ready to murder me, and I refuse to let that happen.

I struggle to sit up straight as he closes the last stretch of distance between us. He decides to rest then for some reason, though it's not as if I can easily hit something vital from here. He's certainly tired. Though in much better condition than me, his skin isn't the right color, either, to say the least. I'd venture to say he's been doing more moving around than me. Especially lately.

Wondering if it would be a good or bad time to try and push myself farther up, I get my free hand on the ground behind me before he swings. I twist out of the way, though it's moving so slowly I doubt it would have done much damage. As long as panicking him a bit doesn't enable him to swing a lot harder, it should be fine for me to get up. Provided I'm able.

Careful not to put the knife in any position I couldn't use it at any time, I wobble to my feet. It's difficult enough not to collapse, and then the pipe hits my shoulder. I stagger, grabbing one of Canada's arms to steady myself, and we both fall to the ground. Though the mud is fairly soft, my lower ribs land over the pipe.

Canada makes a sound of high distress and tugs desperately at his weapon. It starts to shift beneath me, but I lash out with the knife. Despite my lack of strength, it's sharp enough to cut open his throat. My hand falls to the side as blood starts to pour. Canada thrashes, desperately trying to get his hands over the wound and even trying to close it with a handful on mud, but it isn't long before he starts to go limp. The blood drenching my hand stops flowing, and he lies still.

Exhausted even from this little conflict, I close my eyes. My apologies, Canada. But I must defend myself.

I lie facedown, eyes closed, until for some reason the pressure of the pipe beneath me disappears. I reopen my eyes and, after a bit of disorientation, make out carpet beneath my face. Still confused but gradually feeling more healthy, I cautiously start to push myself up. The flesh of my hands is healing itself so fast I can watch the rot give way to peach.

I... I'm... home. It was him? It was Canada I had to kill... Huh...

...I'm home. I am _home_. I am safe and at home, and I am going to take such a long bath it will be as if the island grime never existed.

Just as I walk unsteadily over to the neighboring room and turn the faucet, there's a clatter elsewhere in the house. I've just stepped over to check when the bedroom door pounds, and then opens without a response on my part.

"Austria!"

Hungary charges into the room and, seeing me, speeds over and embraces me.

"You're okay," she breathes before pausing and slowly removing her arms. Though I'm no longer a walking corpse, the back of my shirt is still soaked.

I nod, feeling a bit awkward. "It's wonderful to see you all right, too." That's not just formality. "Er, I do apologize for the mess. I was about to take a bath... You may want to as well, after that..."

Shaking her sleeves a bit, Hungary grins uncomfortably. "Not a bad idea."

I start to go and check on the water before pausing. "Have you been in my house a while?"

"Oh! Yeah." She nods. "There wasn't much for me to do at the meeting room, and I thought it would be a good idea to wait for you. In case you weren't well enough to pick up the phone the next time Germany made a round of check-up calls, you know." She takes a step back, smiling. "I probably shouldn't keep you from your bath any longer. I'll go wash off myself and make us some lunch, okay?"

"If you'd like." I dip my head. "Keep in mind I probably won't be able to eat much just yet."

"I know." She takes another few steps back without turning away. "Well, see you in a while."

"See you."


	48. The Loser Has to Fall

Author's Note: One incident of God's name in vain here. Be warned. And I've also been anticipating this chapter for a long, long time. You might want to be warned about that, too, knowing what kinds of scenes I spend a lot of time on. :D

Well, enjoy, all. I await your reviews. *folds hands neatly while a fluffy white cat settles in her lap*

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><p><em>England<em>

I fiddle with the butt of one of the arrows. The feathers have actually been holding up pretty well on this one, so messing with them is pointless. But just about everything I've been doing here is pointless, so it works out fine in the end.

Have I honestly done anything meaningful out here? If Estonia had the days right, it's already the ninth of July. We've been here for nearly a month. And all I've done is piss off Canada, go through our rations, and sit here waiting. For what am I even waiting? Do I honestly still think my venenireception is coming back? It's been weeks without a smidgen of it returning! What's the point, anyway? Even if I could make out who my nation is, I doubt I could get to him at this point. I've been sitting and letting myself wither away without reason. Yes, I've found food, but it's not nearly enough. The most I can manage is still two arrows a day, and I doubt I'll be able to keep that up much longer.

For that matter, I'm certainly not going to be able to kill anyone. Unless I get a perfect angle on him the first time, before I've shot my bird of the day, I'm not going to win. There certainly won't be any fisticuffs on my part. If anyone attacks, my only hope is to leave it to America. He has a better chance than me, even if he's no longer of his usual strength.

He's understandably quite concerned about that. The day after we helped send over all the information on the stars, he suddenly informed me he was going to build an aeroplane to go over the barrier. That was a completely ridiculous idea, but it's not as if I could stop him. In the end he sort of gave up after finding that breaking down just a few thick branches was altogether too much effort for him. He picked it up a bit later, but sort of trailed off by sunset. And then he cried because he was going to miss his stupid fireworks, et cetera, et cetera. Tch. Just shoot them off on some better day, why don't you?

But I digress. In short, everyone's in pitiful condition, and at this rate we're all going to die. Lovely place.

So. What am I going to do about it? Preferably something. If the others still haven't found us with the range of coordinates we sent them, they're never going to find us. It's up to me to get out of here, should I choose to accept it. How on earth I'm going to manage that is another matter entirely. For all I know, my nation has already left. There weren't many of us left when Estonia and Poland visited. Maybe if my nation was one of them, I'd be able to get to them. But with one arrow to loose, I'd better choose the right one, or the other will retaliate or flee. If my nation is America...

I glance over at him. He's just lying on his back, in the shade of one of the shelters. He hasn't been doing much else lately. He's just sort of lethargic, between the hopelessness of his grand idea and the lack of food. Contrary to how everything started, he's now insisting I get to eat all of whatever I shoot down. It's a bit difficult to object to that, seeing as I'm still starving with that much, but if I catch him shovelling sand down his throat again… I'm sure he's been eating other questionable things while I'm not looking, but he hasn't died yet.

…If he dies that way, I couldn't kill him. I'm not sure any of us have enough immortality or even energy to come back. So I'll have to decide carefully whether or notI should kill him. He probably wouldn't come back.

Somehow that idea sends a bolt of terror through me. But that's a ridiculous reaction. If he is my nation—which seems likely given some of the pair-ups I've seen, or heard from Estonia—it's my life or his. I can't let myself starve for his sake. He'd just die the same way regardless. If I put an arrow through him, he'll at least have a bit less time to suffer.

I feel like I'm going to throw up. Must be the heat or something. I know it can't be the thought of killing him. I wasn't the least bit uncomfortable with the idea the last time I tried it. Of course, he never really ended up anywhere near the chair because Russia had to ruin things...

So it would be a simple matter if I were to kill him. And with his hero complex, it's not as if he wouldn't just let me, anyway, right? It's not really murder if it fulfils both of us. I go home, he goes down in... a heroic blaze of glory or something, and neither of us has to starve to death. It sounds like the best possible scenario to me.

When I check, he's still lying down. From where I'm seated, it's not a good shot at all.

I slowly push myself to my feet. "Oi, America." I swear internally when my voice breaks. "I'm going to shoot something down. Are you coming?"

Apparently America was dozing a bit, as I have to call his name again before he starts to sit up. "Oh. Yeah. Gimme a second." He wobbles around a bit before I sigh and walk over to help him up. I have to lock my knees to stay standing when he pulls down on my arm, while apparently he just needed a bit of momentum—he pops up relatively quickly.

"All right. Let's head out," I say, taking my first few steps into the brush before I can quite pass out. America follows me, but it's only a minute before he ends up taking the lead. We take a short break, and then I tell him to lead us off again. I keep an arrow nocked as he progresses with his back to me.

There's no way I'll be able to penetrate his skull. The arrow's small enough to get between his ribs, though, I should think. By the looks of it—sweat has made his shirt cling to him, so the bones are quite visible—it shouldn't be difficult to aim there. I'll go for his heart, then. It's the surest lethal shot I have.

Staying after him breathlessly, I pull back on the string. I take my aim, my arms quivering a bit—and he starts to turn around.

Sh-shoot him now! _Now_, you idiot—!

My arms fall as he rotates enough to see me, his eyebrows jumping in shock.

"Y-you idiot!" I start with a gasp, starting to sidestep him. "Get out of the way!" I raise the weaponry again and look round before lowering the bow with a scowl. "G-great, it escaped!"

America slowly looks back in that direction, confused. "What escaped?"

I'm still breathing quickly from the panic. "That bird! Did you not see it? It was right in front of you!"

"What?" He looks again. "I... didn't see it..."

"Well, you've never been the observant one," I huff, unable to stop shaking as I force myself into the lead. "Let's just see if we can catch up with it."

"Oh... Sorry..."

I just scoff and keep going, trying desperately to regain my grip on myself. What was that? Why didn't I just let go? Now I'm all pointlessly shaken up, and... And why am I even shaken up? I-I have another chance. I'll just wait a bit, and hope we don't actually run into a bird, a-and... yes. Everything's fine. I'll take another shot at him later.

We continue, taking a few more breaks, and I end up staying in the lead, since I know where the fake bird went. Thankfully no real wildlife has come up as of yet, so America shouldn't be suspicious, and I don't need to waste what strength I have left. Well, I'm sort of wasting it now, carrying on like this. I'm not shaking much now. Let's go home already.

"I need another rest," I say, coming to a stop and putting my shoulders back against a trunk. America leans sideways on the nearest tree to him. He's actually done fairly well in setting up this shot for me. I just have to turn, pull back, and let fly.

I close my eyes for a moment, controlling my breathing. All right. I'm going to kill him this time. Let's keep my head. This is necessary. I am absolutely going to die if I don't do this. Keep calm and shoot.

Waiting until my right hand stops trembling, I reopen my eyes and focus on America.

He blinks and pushes himself away from the tree. "You ready to get going?"

I inhale deeply and take my aim.

"Oh, it's here again?" he starts, quickly sidestepping. He doesn't sense anything is up until he sees the point of the arrow following him.

"England...?" He just sort of stands there, staring at me in bewilderment.

I have a perfect shot! I'm shooting now! I-I'm shooting now! I... I'm not shooting. Why am I not shooting? Why am I not killing him? I have to kill him! Kill him now! Why am I not killing him?

His confused face hasn't changed. God, he's still just a kid...

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><p><em>America's little hands sort excitedly through his present. "Whoa, there are all sorts of soldiers here! Everyone's face is different!"<em>

_I can't help but smile when he's so happy. "That's because it's custom-made," I tell him proudly._

_He goes through the last few figures before glancing up at me mischievously. Before I can react, he squeaks and attacks me with one of them._

_"Oh, is that how we're going to play this?" I grin, swiping a different soldier and making it dance about before jabbing him with it. "Take that!"_

_"Then you take that!"_

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><p>N-no, he's not a kid! And he's not mine, either! He threw that away! After everything I've done for him, he just spat in my face and turned his back on me. And I can't kill him for that? He tore my most beloved relationship to shreds, and I can't kill him for that?<p>

...If that was all it took, I would have shot him down those few centuries ago. But... I-I can't... How could I destroy something I loved so much...?

"England," says America quietly. "Put that down."

"No!" I shout hoarsely. "I'm g-going to kill you!"

"England."

"Shut up!" I'm able to finish screaming that before tears start to run down my face. "I'm going to kill you right here! So stand still, and-and die!"

The arrow is drawn. All I have to do is let let go of it, and I can kill America.

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><p><em>I hear America's little feet pound on the ground only moments before I'm tackled. "They're gonna get me!"<em>

_Recovering from getting the breath knocked out of me, I try to sit up._

_America sniffles, clinging to my arm. "The Indians are gonna get me…"_

_"What has gotten into you?" I shift so I can put an arm around him. "There's no reason to be scared of the natives. Believe me, you can handle them."_

_He nods but continues to burrow into my coat. I certainly wasn't expecting this greeting when I came back to visit. America's never afraid of these things. I can't fathom why he… Unless it's that again…_

_"Did you have a nightmare?"_

_Eyes squeezed tight, he nods._

_"Ah..." I stroke his hair. "Silly thing. Don't worry about those."_

* * *

><p>I just have to let it go—!<p>

"England," America starts.

"Shut up!" I gulp in air before cursing at him. And then I just keep screaming, throwing every swear, every insult, anything that could hurt him, because he's the reason everything's gone wrong, and—

I halt as my tie suddenly jerks forwards and tightens around my neck. America grabbed the end when I had my eyes closed screaming, and now he's out of range.

"England—"

But he hasn't closed up my throat completely, so I go back to screaming at him. Don't you dare try to stop me. I should have killed you a long time ago before you could keep making things worse, and...

He finally collapses my throat, and I make a spluttering noise at him before thrashing, trying to throw him off me. But even if the oxygen deprivation hasn't kicked in much yet, he's still stronger than me. I'm still too weak. Always far too weak...

America is shouting at me to calm down, but I'm not listening very well. Aside from not wanting to hear a word from his ungrateful little mouth, I'm finding it a bit hard to concentrate. But I know I can hold my breath longer than this—or am I too weak to do that, too?

Or—he could be cutting off blood supply...

I start to swoon, and I only just see a jolt of alarm on America's face before I drop unconscious.

* * *

><p>What... What's going on...?<p>

Dizzy, I open my eyes, but things are blurry. I don't know what's going on. My head pounds, and something's moving across my... neck? Is that what that's called?

Things start to clear up a bit, but odd black fuzzy things are swimming about. There's some sort of face above me, but I don't recognise it. What is he doing up there?

I really don't feel well... I'm breathing, but it doesn't seem right... I really don't feel well at all...

Something wet hits my face before I go under.


	49. Silence the Only Sound

Author's Note: HOW ARE WE SO CLOSE TO THE END? I'm freaking out about this. You probably are, too. IT'S ALMOST OVER RKJHBUTGAOEMVHGBEABI

...But there's always the sequel. Whenever I get to that. Probably not until _Unsurvivable_ finishes, but... we'll see.

You might not want to eat anything before you read this chapter. Just a warning~

Also, 750 REVIEWS BHRELIUHVERUINAWEJNIDJRTOIAJ 

Please continue adding to that number in the few chapters you have left. *heart*

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><p><em>Estonia<em>

I break off another piece of root and put it over the fire. We don't have too big a pile of this stuff, but it seems edible, and we are going to eat it. Still taking care to cook it first, though, even if we're starving. And I mean that pretty literally. I broke down and let us get to the remaining pistachios six days ago, and we've only had a few insects since then. That sure grossed Poland out, but he was desperate enough to eat them, anyway.

For that matter, Poland hasn't been acting particularly like himself for a while. Although I guess I'm not much different. We just need food. Our other feelings have sort of taken a backseat to that. Poland hasn't been doing any more dreaming of his treehouses, at least that he's told me. He hasn't been talking much. But then, it hasn't rained in a few days, either, so we're not that comfortable drying ourselves out more by speaking. If we don't find one of those creeks, we probably shouldn't even be eating, but... If even Poland's too tired to talk, we really need some more fuel. Surely we'll run into more water soon, anyway. It's easier to find than food at any rate.

Poland, chin resting on his knees, watches the flames lick up around our stone "stove." I keep pushing the roots around the surface lest they burn. Our attention is just on the food. It's the only priority.

There's not much else for us to do. I've about given up on being rescued. It's been nine days since we got our best coordinates and let them disappear, and there hasn't been a bit of communication from the others. I guess the note never made it to them. It's not like I have any proof disappeared things go back to the others. Maybe they just disappear. It's not any less possible than anything else that's happened to me.

But it looks like we won't be saved. It can't be long before we starve, either. Not long enough for me to attempt getting off by The Rules. I'm not even going to make it to the point where only two of us are left. It seems like the other nations haven't been hunting each other that avidly. It's been four days since America's name faded, and no one else has left since then. Not looking too good for any of us here. We're probably getting too weak to kill whom we need to. Unless the others have come together in a happy little group we weren't invited to, we're all probably scattered too much to find each other easily. Between getting around and having to fight, I'm not sure anyone else is going to die here.

Well. Be killed here. Dying of hunger or thirst is still a readily available option.

Though I do have to wonder if we'd stay dead after that. It's already pretty difficult to make a good recovery from starvation, but with the immortality drain... How much do we have left, anyway? I'm sure it can't be entirely gone, but... I don't really have any reason for that. It's been twenty-eight days. We could be easily be mortal by now.

Of course, that means my main chance at getting out is shot. Even if Poland is my nation now, I'm not going to kill him for good. I mean, he's usually annoying and selfish, but... yeah, those aren't even real factors. I can't kill a friend. I can't kill any of these guys. Not for good.

What would happen to their people if they died, anyway? Under normal circumstances, if we die, our countrymen already haven't been faring well, and then those who remain find a new nation. I think Greece is convinced at least one of his grandmothers dying made her whole civilization suddenly collapse, but that's a whole other story. Or maybe it isn't. I'm fairly sure we didn't all end up here without someone planning it. But that doesn't mean I really know why. Like I don't really know much of anything about this place. And with no way to find out, it's rather frustrating.

But what's not frustrating is having a bite to eat. The roots are cooked now, so I dump them into a paper-free section of the briefcase to cool. It's tempting to just eat everything now, but I know I'll have to ration a bit more carefully. But maybe we'll find another bush like this. Everything's not all that bad. We can go on a little longer at least.

Poland stares at the heat rising from our food until I finally pick out a few pieces and split them among us. I close the briefcase and eat. They're still a bit too hot, and they're pretty bland with a weird texture, but food is food. And food is good. Food is really, really good.

Poland finishes his before mine and frowns at the closed case. I'm honestly pretty full myself, so I don't relate, but we have no reason to stop looking for more, or for water. There are actually a few clouds blocking the sun today, so we should cover as much land as we can. Especially after our first meal in days.

Wishing my throat wasn't so achingly dry, I quietly tell Poland we're going to go look some more. We help each other to our feet and head off.

Thankfully, we end up at a sort of creek within half an hour. It's nearly stagnant, and the water's murky, so some cleaning has to be done first. But any sort of liquid would feel good enough, wetting my lips and unsealing my tongue from the roof of my mouth. I barely even register the unsavory taste as my first dose goes down. It's not much different for the shared bowlfuls after that.

We get as much as we dare from the creek before moving along. I run an eye over all the bushes we cross and, if I'm not sure, refer to our sketches of ones we've already seen. The wildlife isn't as random as it seemed at first. If only the more populous plants were the edible ones...

Before I know it, I'm stumbling onto sand. The shore a few meters away seems just as normal as on any other part of the island, but I'm not going to try going into the water. There aren't even any shells in the sand; the water has never had anything to eat, and I don't think it will. At least, there's not a good enough chance to be worth the effort. I'll stick with the woods.

After a bit of rest, Poland and I continue through the trees. I'm flipping through drawings when I hear a gagging sound behind me. Poland is covering his mouth and backing away from whatever he's staring at. I'm a bit surprised I didn't notice the corpse earlier.

Though apparently I've already blocked out the smell, it still takes a bit of an effort to draw close enough to try and identify the body. It's not quite as far gone as some others I've seen out here, so it's not that difficult to figure out. Though the eyebrows would throw me off if I hadn't seen England a while ago. Apparently he hasn't been doing so well since we left.

So... how dead is he? A couple of days, of course, but beyond that... Will he be coming back? I don't know how much immortality it takes to get us back. I'd think any little bit of it would do, but there's a difference between coming back and coming back well. If the immortality's just enough to bring back our minds, certainly we would just die again. And at the rate nations' bodies have been healing lately... It doesn't seem like the odds are in England's favor here...

I avert my gaze from the rotting body to realize someone else is standing right in front of me. I freeze up, but it's obvious he's not looking at me. His crooked glasses have slid down his nose as he stares at the corpse beneath him. Both of their bodies are in about the same shape. I suppose the reason I didn't see him at first was because his skin sort of blends in with the dark bark all around. Or maybe just because he's Canada.

I'm wondering whether to greet him or tiptoe away when I notice the pipe in his hands. Russia's pipe. H-how—w-why does he have that? I can't imagine Russia would give it away, especially when he killed his way off the island. Did… Canada… kill him? Or…

I'm not sure what to think. I just know I'd rather get away from him. Even if he just happens to have the pipe, I could probably also be killed by whatever's gotten into that gaping, festering wound across the front of his neck. It looks lethal enough without the infection. Shouldn't that be much more healed if he's back to life? Of course, his skin should be a lot more healed, too, but… How is he even breathing?

I glance back at Poland to find he's already retreated. Couldn't handle the "grodiness," I'm guessing. But if he got away without either of us noticing, I should be able to sneak off, too.

Keeping a careful watch on Canada, I take a slow step backwards. He's still staring at England, quivering, his jaw hanging open like he's unable to close it. In his condition, that might really be the case.

I shoot a glance behind me to make sure I'm not going to run into anything, and then I dare another step back. Still no reaction from Canada. Relieved, I pick up the pace a bit, though I'm still keeping an eye on him. So I catch his head suddenly snapping up to look at me.

I freeze, like that could keep him from seeing me any longer. And then I realize it would be far more intelligent to make a run for it. Pivoting, I try to figure out which way Poland went, but I'm not sure. He'll find me in whatever case. I still have some food.

Before I take off, I check to make sure Canada is actually planning to come after me. I mean... Walking corpse or not, he's still Canada. And I can't imagine him going on the offensive any more than me, really. No point in wearing myself down more and getting further separated from Poland if I don't have to.

Yeah, I have to. It doesn't take more than one swing into my head to figure that out. Of course, the shock to my brain isn't much help in getting me away. Seeing a few flashes of light, I have to take another minute to recover. It's not as dangerous as it could be, since Canda's a bit preoccupied at the moment. Apparently all of the fibers in his shoulders haven't regained much strength from their rotting state. His right shoulder bone is at an off angle, while his left arm seems to have been twisted around hard enough to tear the skin open. If I thought Poland's plainly dislocated shoulders hurt, I can only pray Canada's nerves aren't in peak shape right now.

Then again, he just split my head open a little. Maybe I should be a bit less sorry for him and a bit farther away from him.

While he's still distracted, I finally take off. I'm too tired for this, and every footfall sends a shockeave through my head, but I have to at least get out of sight. Speaking of which, my glasses must have flown off, because the world's a little too blurry to be entirely the head injury's fault. Well, maybe not, but I certainly don't feel my glasses in me. If I don't find them quickly, they'll be gone forever. But I don't think I should turn back…

I'm exhausted, though, so I go ahead and stop, casting a glance back. I can't see the details from here, but it doesn't look like Canada's coming any closer. Given his condition, I could at least check for my glasses… I'll need them to make out details of the bush drawings, not to mention the bushes.

Inhaling shakily, I draw a bit closer. He shouldn't be able to hit me again, at any rate. And I doubt he could do much harm otherwise, as thin as he is.

…Ha. I'm worrying over whether a pipe-wielding psychopath is going to be able to kill me. Just like the good old days, minus a few fine details…

Light still shooting across my vision at random, I come as close to him as I dare and start checking out the ground. I don't make good process, since I end up paying more attention to Canada than the soil, but I eventually manage to track down the spectacles. Thankful they hadn't disappeared yet, I slide them on and start to scramble away from Canada. He's dropped the pipe now, but I guess he's not giving in still. Stumbling over the uneven ground, he pursues me. He's not fast by any means, but I've already had my big exertion or two for the day. He's going to catch up at this rate. But he has to tire, too, so if I just keep it up—

He pounces on me. I lose my balance as his limbs thump over me disorganizedly, and we both tumble to the ground. I struggle to push myself back up as he struggles to stay on top of me. His nails, long and broken, scrabble at my throat, but they're not attached tightly enough to his fingers. They fall off before he makes any appreciable scratches. He tries next to bite my throat open, but he can't be efficient enough without control of his jaw. I shove him away before the horror of the situation can put me in hysterics.

Gasping for breath, I roll away from him a few times before trying to get back to my feet. All of the motion, combined with the throbbing of my head and the reek on and around me, makes me sick enough to retch. I have to keep myself still to avoid losing the only lunch I've had in a long while. But he's probably still coming for me. I have to get away. Either he'll kill me or kill himself trying, but, maybe, if I'm far enough he'll give up or forget about me. I'm not sure enough of his state of mind to know which is more likely.

I've just started to push myself back up when Canada launches himself on top of me again. He may not be heavy, but it's still enough to make my elbows buckle and send me back to the ground. I squirm, trying to buck him without spinning too fast, but it doesn't work so well.

And then I hear such a disturbing sound I crane my neck to see what Canada's trying now. Something strange is in his hand, but I can't quite figure out what until I glance at his face.

He ripped out his jawbone. He… What?

I'm not snapped out of a horrified daze until he starts sawing at my neck with the teeth side. He's still trying to kill me. He—He's going to kill me!

I frantically grab at the remains of his shirt and thrust his torso away, but his hands stay at my throat. Letting go of the briefcase, I grab both of his rotten wrists and push. But he's putting all of his strength into this.

"Poland!" I call out breathlessly, finally realizing how much danger I'm really in. "Poland! Poland!"

What if he's too far away? What if he can't get here in time? What if he comes but kills Canada? It's too late for anyone to die here. I can't die, but I can't kill Canada, either. I already decided I couldn't kill these nations, even if it meant getting out of here. But—he's honestly going to kill me… I'm going to die… I'm going to… just die…

I-it's not worth it! Grab a knife now! Just—

I let a hand down to search my belt for my knife, but it's missing. It must have slipped out again, and I wasn't paying enough attention to realize it. But I still have handfuls in the briefcase—!

But Canada finally saws through the last layer he needed to. He lets himself go limp, his jawbone rolling away from my gashed neck. I push him away at last, though it's useless now. Blood is already pouring out of my neck, and my headache's starting to numb. No. No, no, no. This can't happen.

I put my hands over the wound, but I don't have enough strength to keep enough pressure on it. I'm going to die. After everything, I'm going to die... N-no...

My vision's already faded by the time Poland finally arrives. I only just hear him start to freak out before everything else goes blank.


	50. Far from Giving Up

Author's Note: Well, here's our last real chapter. *whistles* I'll get into the thanks spiel in my author's note in the bonus chapter. I did decide to make this chapter a different format for the occasion, but third person like the prologue wasn't working out for me, so I just did this. Hope you still like it.

Let me know if you spot any OOC-ness. I'm going to be getting into the realms of nations I don't know so well, so slip me a note if I need a little guidance.

And mixed reactions to the last chapter, eh? Well, with the way the sequel should go, chapter 49 is definitely going to retain the title of goriest. For those of you *not* sighing in relief at that, well… You could always reread it. Or I'm sure some of my _Hunger Games_ fics will be disturbing enough for you.

Apparently there was more fan art, for aforementioned last chapter, but FF ate the link. FF is always very hungry. Maybe having more reviews might help. But where could you post reviews—OH RIGHT HERE. BAM.

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><p><em>Italy<em>

Gasping for breath, I stare at my feet as they take a few more wide, wobbly steps in the dirt.

I can't do this. Everything hurts, and I can't do this. I'm just trying to find food somewhere, but there's not food, and I can't get to it, anyway. Even though I waited until I didn't feel like moving was ripping me apart, I still can't walk right. I can't tell where my feet are, so I have to stare at them to walk, and they still land funny. I can't tell how straight I'm standing, and I think I'm going kind of side to side, but it's just because I see it, and everything feels funny. And I can't walk right, so how am I going to run right?

Well, I'm just not going to run. I was too tired last time, and I still got killed, and I'm more tired now, and I'll just get killed again. And all I'm ever going to do is get killed and get other people killed. And that's why I'm not with anybody, because I made them go away. I don't remember how I died, but I remember that.

I wish I didn't die, but I couldn't run any more, and... I don't know what happened. They must have hit me in the head really hard, because my head still really hurts. And they hit my hands really hard, because they hurt really bad and they aren't all straight where they're supposed to be, and everything hurts...

I keep staggering ahead and bumping into things until I suddenly see the ground tilting up at me too fast. My hands fly forward to catch myself, but then they hit the ground hard, and things crack really loud, and I fall on the ground anyway, and everything's just pain again. And some other bone that broke went through the back of my hand, and it's bleeding, and I scream really loud.

Making sobbing noises because I'm too dried out to really cry, I just stay here. I can't push myself back up. Why do I need to, anyway? I can't run from anybody, and there's no food, and I'm just gonna die, and I'm just gonna die...

Because it's been so, so long and Germany still hasn't come. I know he's been trying to get here because he always comes to help me, but he still hasn't come, so he isn't coming. He can't come. And if he can't come, nobody can come, so we're all stuck here and we're all going to die, and I'm going to die. And Romano and Spain and Japan and everybody are going to die. Because there's not enough food, and there's not enough time, and no one can find us, and I'm going to die, and everybody's going to die...

I try to curl up, but I realize I'm still face-down in the dirt, and I can't move enough to curl up. So I just stay like this and make choking noises into the ground.

I don't know how long I'm doing this before I hear somebody walking. The footsteps are still slow, but they're more normal than mine. It's somebody I can't run from for sure. But I couldn't run, anyway, like this, so it doesn't matter. None of it matters. They're just going to kill me, and how many times am I going to get killed? Am I going to die this time or next time, or after that? I don't want to die any time...

I think to go through my jacket and get the last white flag I have left, but I can't get ahold of it. And just moving my hands this much makes them hurt so much more, and I have to look at them to move them, anyway. And they look so bad I don't want to look at them, and just seeing that little point of bone coming out of my hand makes it hurt worse, and I stop looking.

So it's useless and I'm just going to die now, and... And I don't want to die...

I go back to sobbing into the dirt until whoever it is finally comes. Then I sort of stiffen up, and I really want to run, but I know I can't, so I just stay here. The other nation makes a cringing noise but doesn't attack me. And then there are hands under my shoulders, and the ground starts to go away.

A-are they just going to throw me on a rock or something? Or just on the ground over and over... O-o-or...

"Hey! Spain-bastard! Are you going to come help or what?"

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Give me a second."

R-Romano? Spain? No... No, no, no... I'm not going to die, but if they hang around me, they're going to die, and I don't want them to die, and I don't want to see them die, and... But... we're all going to die, anyway, so... does it even matter? Because they want me around, and I don't want to be alone anymore, and... And if I can't go home, I at least want to be with my brother and my friends... However many of them are left...

I'm still shaking, but I let him keep lifting me, and then I guess Spain comes and takes one shoulder.

"Are you okay with staying with us for a little while, Italy?" Spain asks quietly.

I turn to answer but freeze up when I see his face. How did he get so skinny? I look over at my other side to see my brother doesn't look any better. H-how long do they have before they starve? How long before... They're going to die, and I can't see them die, but I can't be alone, but...

I just turn away from looking at either of them and make myself nod.

"Good," I hear my brother murmur before he looks down at my most injured hand. Cussing with a grimace, he says, "Let's go find some water."

So they take me with them.

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><p><em>Denmark<em>

"Seriously, why has no one told me about this?"

Germany shuts his mobile phone and glares at me. "You were not intended to know. Now, I have more business to attend to, so if you'd kindly go back out the door you barreled through..."

"Not intended to know?" I repeat, staying after him as he moves into the hallway. "What's up with that?"

He gets a briefcase and checks its contents a few times. "I've been carefully managing communication, based on which nations we would like to contribute to the search." He snaps the case shut for the third time before taking it and heading to his coat rack.

I feign great offense at this. "And you don't want _me_—" I put a hand on my chest—"to contribute?"

"You're fine; it's Norway I'm worried about. And I don't think there would be much stopping you from telling him." Slipping on a coat, he glances at me. "But please don't tell him now." He starts towards the door.

"What's the big deal about telling Norway?"

"Denmark, the plane to Chelyabinsk leaves at 3:00. I need to leave. And you're getting out of my house, too. Come on." He nods towards outdoors.

I look at him. "It's 10:30, man. The airport's not _that_ far away."

He takes a deep breath. "I try to allow time for setbacks."

"Well," I start with a grin, throwing an arm over his shoulders, "I'm the most awesome setback you're going to have all day."

He sighs, looks at his watch, and lowers his arm. "Fine. We can talk. I'll give you three minutes—not a second more." He gives the watch another glance and shrugs my arm off.

"Uh, okay, sure." So... I guess it's pretty useless to try to invite him to that drinking party tonight if he's going off to Russia. But there are other interesting things going on here, according to that phone call I walked in on. "So, I wasn't told about some cool helicopter hunt for missing nations because... you're scared I would tell Norway. Because..."

"We don't want to get any of the 'magic' nations involved. I want us all working towards the same goal in a logical manner. Splitting the group because some are willing to try magic out and some aren't is not conducive to that."

"Uh-huh..." I plop down in the nearest chair—one around the kitchen table—and tilt it back a little. "But what if it is magic?"

"It is not!" He slams a hand on the table. "And you don't know enough about the situation to make these sorts of decisions for us!"

I watch the things on the table rattle for a second as Germany rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry. I've been getting a lot of suggestions so ridiculous it's like we've forgotten what dire situations our fellow nations are in." He motions at me. "Go ahead."

"Hmm... Well, whatever you've been doing, it's apparently not working." I lean back far enough to put my shoes on the edge of the table. "How long has whoever been missing?"

He lets his hand drop to his side, though he's staring at my feet. "This is day twenty-nine. But there's a lot of water to cover, and we have to take care of the nations that have just come back from hunger and trauma. We're not making the best progress, but the last thing we want to do is try to start off on a whole new course." He stares at my shoes a little longer before finally motioning at them.

"Yeah, these are nice boots, huh?"

"Get them off of my table."

I shrug, keeping them up. "So, dire situations and hunger and trauma? What exactly is going on on that island?"

He continues to glare at my boots. "You have one minute, fifty-one seconds left. One minute, fifty. One minute, forty-nine..."

"You need to be less OCD, man." I lower my feet and put them on one of the table's lower wooden rungs. "You're no fun when you're sober."

He sighs. "I never claimed to be."

"So, anyway, island stuff. Tell me what's up."

Germany glances at his watch again. "It's a long story..." He looks at one of the clocks on the walls to make sure the time is right. Crap, he's wound up today. "All right, listen. I'll call you after the meeting tomorrow and give you the whole rundown."

"Sure." I tilt back a little more until I feel like I'm about to fall over backwards. "But what time is it going to be over here when the meeting ends? Because I'm planning on having a pretty awful hangover tomorrow morning."

He closes his eyes, vein throbbing in his forehead. "I'll have someone send you an email, then."

"Eh, okay. I'll settle for that. So, how much of my three minutes—" I'm cut off by a loud blast of Beethoven, and Germany shuffles through his pocket for his phone.

"We're both leaving now," he tells me quickly before starting back for the front door and opening the phone. "Hello?"

I sit here and watch as he tries to twist the doorknob with the briefcase handle in the way. "No, it's fine. I don't usually sleep in this late, anyway. What's going on?" He gets the door open and lets it swing for a second before craning his neck back to glare at me.

I let the front two chair legs fall to the ground and then get up. Eh, fine, I'll leave. There's nothing fun to do here, anyway. Unless Prussia's around. I haven't seen him here, though.

"Hey, where's your brother, anyway?"

Germany just shushes me loudly and steps out the door. "Oh—no, not you, Japan. I was quieting _someone_ who doesn't know when to shut up and leave."

"Okay, so it's not a strong point of mine. I make up for it with awesomeness, though."

"Denmark!"

I put my hands in the air. "I'm going. Though, trust me, you could really use that drinking party tonight."

He just watches me as I go back outside and unlock my bike. Guess I'll just head back to the train station alone, then. Or I'll wait a minute and call Prussia. Then we head back to my place, meet up with Belgium and the guys, and have a good time. Then recover in the morning, and I'll check out my email, see what's going on, and go see what Norway thinks about it. I bet he'll be interested.

* * *

><p><em>Liechtenstein<em>

The sun is rising again. I can't see it from my nest, but the sky is getting pink at the bottom. Another day, then. I'm not sure how long it's been since Russia killed me, since I must have been dead for a few days afterwards. But it's been almost two weeks since I came back. Switzerland still hasn't come. Or, I hope he hasn't. If he was here when I was dead...

The thought makes the corners of my eyes prickle. I'd hate for him to be that worried. But... He would have taken me with him, anyway, right? As long as I don't die again, things should be fine. And I've gone this long without anyone finding me, so I'm hopeful on that front.

Not being found is all I have, though. Russia took Urs, and I don't know what happened to Verena. I still have the pocket knife, but it's definitely not the same. I guess I could try to defend myself if it came to it, but... I don't really want to, with a gun or a knife...

So I'll just stay up here. I don't have much of a choice, with how weak I've gotten. I can't do much looking for food, so I'll just lie here quietly. I'm getting more tired every day, but it's all right. I know Switzerland is coming. And he'll save me before I starve. Just like last time. I have no doubt about that.

I close my eyes and rest.

* * *

><p><em>Russia<em>

"Then I hereby adjourn this meeting," Germany says gruffly, starting to put his papers away. I straighten up my things and close up my own briefcase. I'm definitely ready to go home. Especially since I actually have some other nations staying there! It's still not a lot of us, and Lithuania's going off on the next helicopter hunt to help America out, but still! I'm not alone, and it's not even just Belarus trying to keep me company!

Snapping my briefcase shut, I start towards the door. America and Japan are ahead of me. It's kind of funny to see the difference between them. Even though Japan has been back here for a lot longer, America's way closer to his normal weight. Japan's still a little skeleton-y.

I think I'm all the way back to normal now. My brain, too. Good thing, because it wasn't any fun—

With a gasp, I grab at my chest as my knees give out underneath me. O-o-ow... A-ah...

"Brother!" Only a second after the ball of acid suddenly scorched my chest, Belarus is trying to help me get back up. "What's wrong? Brother!"

I carefully get back to my feet, panting until the pain finally starts to fade away. "Don't worry. I'm okay." It takes another second before I make myself let go of my shirt. "Really, I'm okay."

Belarus looks at my chest and frowns, while Latvia just looks at me and frowns. "I-is it your heart trying to fall out again?"

I shake my head. "No, it's just..." I look at my chest.

Germany, who I thought had already left, gives me a sideways glance. "Has something happened? Around Moscow?"

"I think that's it." But it didn't really feel like a bomb... At least, not like the ones I remember.

Germany looks over the other people in the room and orders, "Check the news—see if anything's come up. We may have to wait a minute, but there's no reason not to start looking now."

Nations start whipping out their mobile phones and tapping away.

It isn't too long before Japan finds something. "Some sort of explosive device went off about a kilometer away from Vnukovo International Airport. It doesn't look like anyone was injured, and it doesn't seem to have done any significant property damage."

I cock my head to the side. "But something like that wouldn't have hurt so much..."

"It's probably more harmful than it seems, then," Germany responds, grimacing. "I don't want to go off on a wild goose chase, but this is definitely unusual, given your reaction." He nods at me. "I'll assign you to keep an eye on this, just in case it's related to the whole purpose of The Rules somehow. If you feel or find out something significant, let us all know."

"Okay," I chime.

We linger a bit more, looking for any more news, before we start to filter out of the building.

* * *

><p>Lounging on my bed, I flick through a few television stations to get to the news. I really want to find out what happened. Either Japan was lying, or there's something else wrong with whatever it was. It felt too bad to not be anything somewhat serious...<p>

I don't think it has anything to do with the island, though. But all I'm maybe missing out by checking is a backup helicopter trip when America fails, so it's not a big deal.

An hour after the blast, I'm watching a report on possible culprits. And that's when a whole bunch more information comes pouring in. All of the nations are calling me and everyone else, and all of the news is going crazy, because all of the other explosives have gone off. Not in me. Around the world.

Maybe this does have something to do with The Rules.


	51. Bonus Chapter

Author's Note: Well, the whole chapter here is an author's note, but I might as well put the label.

_Thanks_

What the heading says. Really. For all of my review-begging, I really am grateful for all you guys have given me. Especially feedback, but also faving, watching, and even bumping up the numbers on my hits page. While I can't possibly list all of those who've read this, know I'm grateful to all of you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the time you took out of your lives to read my ramblings. You've made me happy, made me inspired, and made my day very often.

_Chapter Titles_

Here are the songs from which the chapter titles hail, in order as FF has them on the drop-down list. As most of the titles are taken completely out of context from a song that's decidedly more romantic than the chapter, I've provided a bit of a guide. If any relevant lyrics outside the title appear in the song (even just the rest of the line), it will be marked *L. If there are relevant lyrics a bit farther away, it will be marked **L.

1. Prologue (no song intended)

2. We're Just Beginning ("Heaven is a Place on Earth" by Belinda Carlisle)

3. And We'll Fight ("We're Not Gonna Take It" by Twisted Sister)

4. In the Dark ("In the Dark" by Billy Squier)

5. Hysteria ("Hysteria" by Def Leppard)

6. Take Your Chances ("Owner of a Lonely Heart" by Yes)

7. Nowhere Man ("Nowhere Man" by The Beatles)

8. Love Bites ("Love Bites" by Def Leppard) *L

9. A Job To Do ("A Job To Do" by Genesis)

10. I'll Tell You Once More ("Don't Bring Me Down" by Electric Light Orchestra)

11. Cover Me ("Cover Me" by Bruce Springsteen)

12. Let the Good Times Roll ("Good Times Roll" by The Cars)

13. The Lunatic is on the Grass ("Brain Damage" by Pink Floyd)

14. Don't Cry ("Don't Cry" by Asia) *L

15. Prove Yourself ("Owner of a Lonely Heart" by Yes)

16. Wrong Edge of the Blade ("Edge of the Blade" by Journey)

17. Made Your First Kill Now ("Clampdown" by The Clash)

18. Be There for You ("I'll Be There for You" by Bon Jovi) *L

19. Where We Really Want to Go ("Born to Run" by Bruce Springsteen) *L

20. Anarchy in the UK ("Anarchy in the UK" by The Sex Pistols)

21. Take Me to the Other Side ("The Other Side" by Aerosmith)

22. All I Can Do ("It's All I Can Do" by The Cars)

23. Mister Nice Guy ("No More Mr. Nice Guy" by Alice Cooper) *L

24. Into the Danger Zone ("Danger Zone" by Kenny Loggins)

25. Forsaken our Promises ("It Could Have Been You" by Journey) *L

26. Have Some Sympathy ("Sympathy for the Devil" by The Rolling Stones)

27. On My Way Home ("Home Sweet Home" by Motley Crue) **L

28. Paranoia, the Destroyer ("Destroyer" by The Kinks)

29. No Demands ("Love is a Battlefield" by Pat Benatar)

30. Why Don't You Use It ("The Reflex" by Duran Duran)

31. Dirty Deeds ("Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap)" by AC/DC)

32. Don't Seem Real ("She Drives Me Crazy" by Fine Young Cannibals)

33. Drive You Mad ("Bang Your Head (Metal Health)" by Quiet Riot)

34. Been Waiting For This Moment ("In the Air Tonight" by Genesis)

35. I Can't Take Any More ("Four in the Morning" by Night Ranger)

36. Can't Afford to Be Innocent ("Invincible" by Pat Benatar) *L

37. Survive Somehow ("Who's Crying Now" by Journey)

38. I'm Back ("Back in the USSR" by The Beatles)

39. Find Your Way Back ("Find Your Way Back" by Starship)

40. Wish I Had the Strength ("Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore" by REO Speedwagon)

41. See What Tomorrow Brings ("Slipping Away" by Dave Edmunds) *L

42. Confusion and Pain ("Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)" by Journey)

43. Ain't Getting Nowhere ("Dancing in the Dark" by Bruce Springsteen)

44. Calling upon the Zombies ("London Calling" by The Clash) *L

45. Don't Know What I Will Find ("Waiting for a Girl Like You" by Foreigner) *L

46. There Must Be Some Misunderstanding ("Misunderstanding" by Genesis) *L

47. Desperation in the Air ("Life is a Lemon (And I Want My Money Back)" by Meat Loaf)

48. The Loser Has to Fall ("The Winner Takes It All" by ABBA)

49. Silence the Only Sound ("Paperlate" by Genesis)

50. Far from Giving Up ("Troubled Child" by Journey)

_Timeline_

Here's the concise list. (I may do a comedic summary later, as some sort of oneshot. We'll see.) It's not entirely complete, but it does have all of the deaths. If there's something else (clearly established in this fic) whose date you want to know, I'll be happy to add it here or PM it to you.

Day 1 (June 16)

Nations arrive on island

Russia kills Hungary

Japan kills Germany and Italy

Germany kills Japan and goes home

China kills Estonia and Latvia

Day 2 (June 17)

Japan kills Belarus

Belarus kills Lithuania and goes home

Austria finds Hungary

Day 3 (June 18)

Japan kills Switzerland and Liechtenstein

It rains

Switzerland kills Japan

Day 4 (June 19)

Estonia and Latvia find Lithuania and Poland

Italy finds Spain and Romano

Japan kills Poland, Estonia, and Latvia

Russia kills Spain

Hungary kills Russia

Day 5 (June 20)

Japan kills England and America

China kills Japan

France kills Canada and China

Day 6 (June 21)

Switzerland kills Hungary, Austria, and France and goes home (from killing France)

America kills Japan

Day 7 (June 22)

It rains

Lithuania kills Poland and goes home

Italy, Romano, and Spain find France

America kills Russia

Japan kills France, Spain, and Romano

Day 9 (June 24)

Austria and Hungary find Poland, Estonia, and Latvia

Austria and Hungary find Italy

China and Russia KO each other

Latvia kills Romano and goes home

Day 10 (June 25)

Japan kills Russia

Canada kills England

France kills Spain and goes home

Day 11 (June 26)

Poland and Estonia find Italy

Day 12 (June 27)

Japan kills Austria and Hungary

Austria kills Japan

It rains

China kills America

Day 13 (June 28)

Italy leaves Romano and Spain

Day 14 (June 29)

Russia kills Liechtenstein and goes home

Canada tries to kill Romano

Day 15 (June 30)

Poland and Estonia find Spain and Romano

Day 16 (July 1)

Italy finds Japan

Day 17 (July 2)

It rains

Japan kills Canada

America scares China

Austria and Hungary kill each other, and Hungary goes home

Spain and Romano find Italy

Day 18 (July 3)

It rains

Estonia and Poland find Japan, America, and England

Japan kills China and himself and goes home (from killing himself)

Day 21 (July 6)

Italy is killed

Day 22 (July 7)

Austria kills Canada and goes home

Day 24 (July 9)

America kills England and goes home

Day 25 (July 10)

It rains

Day 28 (July 13)

Canada kills Estonia

Day 29 (July 14)

Spain and Romano find Italy

Day 30 (July 15)

Mysterious bombs go off

_Sequel_

I can't promise you when the sequel is going to get here, but it will get here sometime. I may tentatively promise you its first chapter should be up within a week of the end of _Unsurvivable_. It could be published earlier if I just really feel like it, but I would count on having to be a bit more patient.

Its current title is _Break Out_, and I'm pretty sure I'll be sticking with that. **It is now published** at fanfiction (dotnet)/ s/8947583/1/

Well, that's all for now, folks. Thanks again for your support and the feedback that has shaped the series (the sequel drastically so), and I'll see you all later.

With love,

NOFO Journey


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